The Last Beginning
by Placidmage
Summary: Duo is the lost orphan prince of a dying nation. . . can he discover his identity before it's too late? Or rather. . . before Trieze does? With Heero as an assassin emplyed under Treize, he get's his most difficult assignment. . .
1. Prologue

~~~ This story is hereby dedicated to Emily Hato for her continuous support, without whose encouragement I would probably not have continued past the third chapter, and because she's just awesome. ~~~  
  
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A/N: Whoa, I have an outline! For those of you who don't know me, this is very scary. I have never written anything from the beginning with a plan. I love reviews, and I really hope you review because it really makes my day. Thank you so much. Oh, and Zechs and Treize are only young teens in this prologue (notice the date changes) so their actions are much less rational or adult (as I think their actions would be at that age).  
[For those of you who read my stories, I've been cut off from the computer for a while, so I'm sorry that I haven't been updating. I just found this idea out of my big pile of story ideas and thought this would be a perfect exercise to make sure I didn't have writer's block, but it actually turned out pretty good. Please tell me what you think.]  
Warnings: Violence in this chapter, but it's very important to the story! I like angst, but I know when enough is enough. You'll see what I mean later, but at least you've been warned.  
Disclaimer: I dreamt I found Heero in a cereal box once, but that's the closest I'll ever get to owning any of Gundam Wing.  
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Prologue 1785:  
They were out to kill. It was as simple as that, and there were no questions asked. He only stopped for one moment to look around, and that was all the time it took. He watched his comrades set the houses on fire, and as the buildings began to slowly decay inside screaming flames. He was the first to question.  
Standing amidst the scene, in the horrid realization that no one deserved this, no matter what they had done to him or anyone else and clenched his fists tightly as he watched the city erupt into flames before his very eyes. It was one thing to support something, and another to actually carry it through. (This isn't a revolution; . . . it's a massacre. How could we do this to them) He recalled the starving people in the streets, the diseases, the deaths, and it was easy to see how they could be so angry, but it was no excuse to treat anyone like this. He listened to the screams of desperation echoing around him, and it was then he realized it would always be an eye for an eye, but it was a pity that they would all soon be blind.  
"They had it coming, you know," he turned quickly at the voice of his friend rang out through the smoke and ash, "None of them ever cared that we were starving and dying all this time. . ."  
"Maybe they didn't know. . ." he said almost in a whisper, as if he was talking to no one at all, continuing to observe the growing destruction around him as a disgusted shiver ran up his spine. His friend put a hand on his shoulder in consolation, but just as he was opening his mouth to speak, they both turned to a cry from the building to their side.  
He dropped his tenacious hold on the stolen gun in his right hand as he saw three of his fellow peasants at the steps of the burning building, cornering an injured noblewoman who somehow seemed to have escaped. He gripped the gun tighter when one of the men moved so that the woman was out of view and took a step towards them.  
"Where the hell are you going?" His friend ran in front of him and almost added 'it's none of our business what they do', but quickly caught his tongue. It was not so long ago that they were doing the same thing, but they hadn't always known it was wrong. "I can't watch this any longer." He said definitely, but a wavering quality in his voice as his friend's eyes widened, "I'm sorry."  
With that said, he pushed his friend aside, angry at the display of what he thought to be cowardice, but too ashamed of himself to see concern. He knew what they would do to him as well as anyone else, but for once, he would be doing the right thing. He saw the blond leader of their group take a knife to the noblewoman's throat threateningly.  
"I won't kill you, now, lady, if you'll just come with me," the blond threatened as the lady handled a package strongly against her breast, but at safe distance from the knife as if it was the last thing on earth. The folds on her scorched navy-blue dress were edged with blackened lace and shook as she trembled under the hands of death. She held her breath, and held her eyes shut, almost embracing it as tight as the package entangled with her arms. She would die to protect it, and the harder she closed her eyes to contain her tears, the faster they began to stream down her face.  
"Did you hear me?!" the merciless revolutionary of about fifteen years old pressed the knife closer, and the lady gasped, eyes still closed and awaiting death, but it was then that he came through the crowd.  
"I can take over from here." He said coldly, looking at the three and the blond gave him a look of disgust before turning back to his victim, "Treize put me in charge of this revolution, I'll have you know, and I don't expect to hear such snide remarks from my subordinates."  
"I said I could take over." He said simply and apathetically, watching as the leader motioned for the other two to hold the lady while returning his knife to the ground and turning to him.  
"Then, I propose you do just that," the blond remarked sourly and paused to look away, "kill her."  
The woman's eyes opened with a start, and he saw her arms tighten around the package. It was then that he noticed her eyes. They were the most beautiful shade of purple, and he watched them widening as she waded in the terror of defeat. There was other way out for him except to miss the shot, but what then? They would only make her death long and painful after that, and maybe if he shot her, but only injured her, they would leave her alone. It was then that he proposed a question that he hadn't been able to ask himself in a long time; what was the right thing to do?  
". . .Don't have the nerve?" The blond answered himself slyly, "I didn't think so." He was about to turn his back, but froze when the man with the gun threw a malicious stare at him.  
"Some of us do." He said simply, and brought the weapon back into both hands, and his blond leader crossed his arms in amusement. He knew this man didn't have the nerve from the beginning. It was in his eyes, and yet, the man raised his weapon. What a fool.  
The other men around him watched in uncertainty as he shakily leveled the gun at the violet-eyed woman who had enough dignity left to keep her eyes open, shining with her hidden fears, and then there was a scream from the street, which startled and shook his hand, forcing the trigger into action.  
The shot rang out and held itself in the air. He hadn't meant to fire.  
He watched as the noblewoman fell to the ground and the three men looked at him with the same terror he had felt only minutes ago before running away from the scene of the crime. And it was a crime.  
"Damn you, man!" The leader yelled with all his might, making the man flinch at the mention, but was unable to avert his eyes. "What have you done?! She wasn't supposed to die!" looking at the ground, almost regretfully, the blond hissed under his breath, "How . . . how could you . . .?"  
It was too quick to see, but the man thought there were tears on his leader's face before his turned to run away as the rest had done. None of them ever really meant to kill, it was only expected. Blasted expectations!  
The man thought he saw the at a fellow revolutionary across the way wave a nonchalant hand at the scene he stood in as if it meant nothing and went off most likely to cause more pain in the adjacent street from which could be heard new cries of the fallen.  
He just stood there, gun still raised, but he felt nothing. There was nothing. He couldn't even cry. Empty. He let the gun drop to the ground and collapsed to his knees beside the woman. He had started to pray forgiveness when he noticed something moving amidst the folds of her stained dress, and thought she was alive for one glimmer of second before he was proven otherwise by a small cry from the fallen package.  
He picked it up and un-wrapped the bundle to find a pair of violet eyes staring up at him . . . they were just like his mother's. . .  
"What have I done . . . ?" He looked at the cherubic face of barely one year and felt the tears that failed him before trail down his cheek. A child . . . a child he had orphaned. There was no forgiveness here. He didn't deserve it. Looking out at the streets and at the burning buildings, he knew this was what it had come to, and he didn't want a part in it any longer.  
Feeling a whimper from his arms, he looked down at the bloodstained cloth to see the child within it blink stunning purple eyes before erupting into a fit of tears. Glancing again at the murdered mother, he knew what he had to do. He couldn't stop anyone else from this horror, because it was their choice, but he was going to save the last thing that mattered to that woman. He didn't know how to take care of a baby, but he knew someone who would.  
Avoiding the main streets and unwanted eyes, he ducked into an alley that would lead him to the same place he had always known for as many years as he had been in this town. It was an ally to all those oppressed by the rich and the one place he could be certain that no one would touch.  
Nearing the Maxwell Church, he stopped suddenly to look once more at the child. He read the fear on the baby's eyes and let go of one hand on the child, reaching to the back of his neck where he found the chain with ease and plucked it off his neck. Staring at the gold cross for a minute, he narrowed his eyes at it and tucked under the folds of the blanket.  
"I gave this up all too long ago," he said simply as he concealed his gift and placed the now crying child on the church doorstep, "I have no place here anymore. . ." He reminisced, but not even regretfully as he knocked on the door, hesitating a moment before quickly running away. To where, he wasn't sure, but he had been running all his life, and there was nothing different.  
He knew that it wasn't just a slip of the hand that had killed the child's mother, it was fate. Perhaps he had only been fated to kill to save another, but for whatever reason, he ran away. The man didn't even look back once to watch as a very young boy on the streets ran past the child, but stopped momentarily. The boy saw the child, and fearing for its safety, took the baby into his arms before running away as a gunshot was heard around the corner. The boy bolted off down the street in search of safety with the child still wrapped tightly in his arms.  
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The blond member of the third class and leader of this small revolution wandered around a corner, away from the destruction, still shaken from the last minute's experience. He was so sure the man wasn't going to kill her, but now he didn't know what to think. He had tried to accuse the man behind the gun, but the leader knew that he was the one who had truly killed the woman and would never forgive himself for that. He was so young and naïve that he didn't know what was right or wrong anymore. He never would.  
The fair-haired young man was headed away for more reason than this, though. That woman wasn't supposed to die.  
They had asked for her alive, he wasn't sure why, or even who she was, but now his carelessness might have cost him more than the mission. You could never tell with them. He could run away, but that wouldn't do him any good. They had ways of finding people, and he wasn't afraid. Especially not of him . . . He stopped thoughtfully before heading around another corner, making sure no one followed. However, he had never killed anyone until now, so he wasn't sure what would happen, and held full responsibility for his actions.  
Walking into a passage, he looked up at the familiar fire escape before grabbing hold and climbing up slowly. The rust on the struts of the ladder felt rough against his hands, which had been slightly burnt in the process of setting a building on fire. How could he do such things?  
Pushing in a window, the fair-haired man burst into the room, and watched the sitting shadow rise off the chair. An icy chill filled the room, but he was used to it by now. It was the coldness and emptiness of heart that resided in the room that filled all who entered with an overwhelming sadness. The man probably could have killed anyone in this room and feel no regret, but this wasn't the case.  
"You've brought her, then?" The voice spoke-out knowingly, and harshly therefore, face still enveloped in darkness. The blond boy breathed quietly, without fear, awaiting the fiercest of anger upon his answering.  
"No, sir," he stood at attention, devoid of fear, but to his surprise, there was no response, and still he feared nothing.  
"Dead, then?" The voice asked reasonably, disappointment echoing within.  
"Yes, sir," the blond hesitated, "I hold responsibility."  
"I see . . ." the shadow inched closer, narrowing eyes that shone through the dimly-lit room, "But you didn't kill her, specifically. . ."  
"No."  
"Indeed." The figure stepped away for a second, but came into the light for a brief moment to reveal brown hair before turning away, "And the child?"  
The blond boy froze a second, trying to think what mission his leader was referring to and why.  
The question didn't make sense by all means, and during his pause he could determine the impatience of the figure and hurried himself along gently. The woman . . . the woman was holding something. . . An image flashed through his head of a slight movement cradled within her arms that he took for nothing at the time and shrugged it off. Could this package have been a child?  
"Dead."  
"Are you sure?" the voice rang into his soul, sensing his uncertainty, but if the blond boy knew he had better be certain, even if it was to be certain of an uncertainty.  
"Yes."  
  
"Very well," the figure read into his lies, but there were more important things to worry about, "This is a disappointment, Milliardo, but you will be sure this doesn't happen again."  
"Sir, I am not a murderer. I will never be. People need to be taught, not killed."  
"They will learn. This is the only way." The brown-haired young man narrowed his eyes at the insolence of his follower. The blond boy never considered himself to follow anyone and always did things his own way. Fearless, if you will, and driven by his own pride, or rather lack thereof. He staggered forward threateningly at these words, quite convinced of the malicious arrogance that must have come with them.  
"Teachers can barely expect their students to learn if they become frustrated and start a massacre. This is lunacy!" The young man narrowed his eyes challengingly to emphasize his disapproval of the higher leader's ideals.  
"You are very right, but there are some who cannot be taught without motivation to learn." The figure smirked.  
"You are a cynic in human potential, Treize, and I intend to see this stopped. Mark my words." Milliardo stopped for a second before whispering, "That woman didn't deserve to die."  
Treize looked into the face of his challenger and saw the sadness there, but chose to ignore it. Feelings can corrupt the best of judgment. "And what of the child; did he deserve to die?"  
"Of course not," the blond looked away.  
"But you do not know that he is dead." The young man turned to Treize, unable to answer, "You're a horrible liar, you know. Do you know who that child is?"  
Milliardo looked at Treize for a moment, still stunned that he could be caught lying so easily. He usually wasn't so conspicuous, but it was something about Treize's commanding presence that must have set him off balance. He thought about who the woman was for a second, but all he could think of was those purple eyes. What an odd color. . . and still, he didn't know where he might have seen them before, or perhaps he wouldn't have, but he had taken her out of a fairly well-furnished house before setting it aflame, so she must have been of some importance in society.  
"I'll give you a clue," Treize motioned, knowing the question was near- impossible even for someone of Milliardo's intelligence. This was classified information that he had only come across by mere chance. "You don't know of them. No one does."  
"Do tell." Milliardo crossed his arms at the egotistic leader, allowing Trieze his fifteen minutes of fame for the hidden information.  
"Some time ago, at the end of our previous king's reign, there were happenings at the palace beyond the general public's knowing. The king's own cousin had a baby girl. Of course, none of this was ever announced to the public because they couldn't say who the father was." Trieze paused for a second to turn away from the fierce green eyes that drew holes through him even as he spoke.  
"Under normal circumstances, they would have had her marry someone and say he was the father, but unfortunately, she caught ill with an unidentified infection and died soon afterward. The girl was raised outside the palace under the watch of a trusted royal advisor, and when she reached the age of 16, was able to keep her own. This is the very woman I asked you to bring to me, not for her, but for her child." Treize finished and let this sink in for Milliardo, who was feeling a bit nauseous at the thought of having killed a relative of the king, even though it was the king they were aiming to overthrow.  
"But for what purpose would you have the child?" He asked quietly.  
"Why, as an example, of course. The people love a good show." Treize chuckled a little at the comment, but Milliardo widened his eyes in shock.  
"You would kill a child. . ."  
"We would have to. You have said you disagree," Treize froze ominously, and edged over to the open window, "Come here a moment." He motioned outside to the street where almost nothing was visible through the smoke, but the cries of the people could be heard all around, cries of revenge and of revolution. Milliardo moved closer. These were the same cries he had been running from, and he knew now the path he must take. He was not a murderer.  
"Milliardo, for these people to truly succeed in the revolution, there must be change! The king has not borne any children as of yet, and all of his relatives have been taken captive with the exception of himself. I was hoping the child would be the last successor following the revolution, and wouldn't it be very symbolic for the people and all of France to set the child as an example?" Treize inquired, fully basking in the envisioned moment of glory which, to Milliardo, seemed perfectly barbarous.  
"Treize, I have listened to you speak of change and needs and wants, but the world is not solely for your toying with. I think it is my turn to teach you a lesson. Good judgment comes from bad experience, and much of this is from bad judgment. I have been a fool, and for that I suffer, but I now know what good has come from this. I see, now, that I can no longer fight for your cause." Milliardo said sternly, and turned away from the window and towards the other by the fire escape. He had heard enough.  
"But you will fight, Milliardo." The blond caught this as he exited the window, but quickly flung his legs over the sill and walked on.  
"I know, Trieze. We all must fight, but I will never kill again." His blond hair fell around his shoulders as he exited the fire escape and headed towards the heart of battle once again, but this time, with a different purpose.  
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1797: The story begins:  
"Hell of a game of tag . . ." The braided thief dripped sarcasm as the officer twisted the frail arms farther inward and slammed him into the adjacent brick wall. "Ow, man . . ."  
"You see this, boy?" The policeman interrupted the boy, pinning him down skillfully with a single hand, using the other to reach into the rascal's pocket to retrieve an apple. The boy's heart-shaped face fell upon a glance, looking at the fruit hungrily for a second before writhing around in the policeman's grasp and trying to find a way out of it. Soon figuring out that it was useless, (especially lacking the strength that he did from hunger), the boy relaxed under the hold. The officer looked at the boy, awaiting another smart-aleck reply. When there was none and the boy hung his head, he was quite happy, and continued with his interrogation, "This is an apple; a stolen apple."  
"I gotcha on that one, doc," One purple eye winked playfully as a smile and a hand wriggled loose, "I guess an apple a day doesn't keep the doctor away . . ." the rascal said impishly as he pushed the policeman away and ran off down the street again. Unfortunately for our little thief, it didn't last. There was much too little time to get a good head's start, especially on a morning as that on was. The streets were completely empty and it was only a matter of seconds before the officer caught him again. However, it was always worth a try, and he never gave up. You can be sure of that. No one can ever afford to give up at anything on the streets.  
The boy was naturally quite thin, but years on the streets had made him grow thin to the point of limitation. It wasn't easy finding food, and it was even harder to steal it. That's what had gotten him in trouble that day, not that he hadn't given the good 'ol officer enough trouble before, of course. He didn't see what the big deal was, anyway. It was just an apple.  
Coming down the street, he turned his head back to find an angry man in a black uniform chasing after him at full tilt. It was a good thing the boy's braid was tied back so carefully, or it would have gotten caught in all sorts of things on the way through the place. It was a not-so-recent discovery of his, and it worked quite well he had found through the years, even though he was constantly tortured by the others. It wasn't cruel, though; it was more like sibling rivalry. They were family.  
And just like family, they know exactly the right time to come to the rescue. The braided boy flashed a grin to his friend who came up from behind him.  
"Hey Duo, lovely morning, wouldn't you say?" The second, older boy with green eyes and a mop of dark brown hair came to his side, gasping for breath through his words as they passed an old lady with a flower stall, who shook a fist after them. Duo chuckled slightly, poor old lady McCullen still couldn't tell a pansy from a chrysanthemum, but she was nice enough to them, all things considered.  
"Just peachy, Solo." Duo answered through hurried breaths, flipping his braid (which had somehow gotten around to his front) over his shoulder and letting it dangle in the air as they ran on. "So what's the plan?"  
"What plan?" Solo said innocently to make it clear that he wasn't any less innocent than the devil himself as they kept on running. They didn't really have time to fool around, though. The policeman was gaining ground faster than they were, and they had a limited amount of time before he caught up to them both.  
Solo looked at Duo quickly, who blinked purple eyes in confusion, "We'll loose him in the north alley." Solo said finally, and Duo nodded. That was the best possible move they could make in this situation. The south alley had traffic from the other street kids and they'd catch Hell if they took an officer down there, and Duo had already passed the alley by Juniper park even before Solo came to his rescue. The north alley was better than any of them, besides. It had plenty of nooks, crannies, and passages that only they knew. It was dangerous for them, though. If any of the officers were to find any of their hiding spaces, it would be a serious loss. Solo only took the most experienced members of the group in the north alley when they had an outsider on their tail.  
Duo had been there before, but never with anyone outside the family. It was a big risk they were taking.  
"Hey, ease up," Solo said between gasping breaths of hard running while Duo just kept pushing ahead in concentration. His legs were ready to give out any minute. He would be glad to do anything at this point so long as they were able to sit still! Solo always seemed to come in at all the right times. He had always looked out for Duo like a little brother, and was the only family the violet-eyed boy had ever known.  
Duo didn't need to be told twice where the north alley was, because everyone who was anyone on the streets knew, and they quickly made a path all the way from the main roads to the entrance, where they were followed swiftly by the officer who had plenty of practice with these petty chases. On average, the officer wouldn't have bothered to follow them this far, but Duo had royally pissed him off this time, and the policeman had proof enough to convict the thief of the crime. He wasn't going to pass this chance up anytime soon.  
The officer watched as the two headed into the mouth of the dark passageway between two three-story apartment buildings, and entered only to find they had completely disappeared. The officer paced up and down the alley before storming off, angry and frustrated. He was so sure he had the stealthy braided thief this time, but he supposed it would have to wait for another day. It was too bad; . . . he would have had an awful good story to brag about to the guys at the pub that afternoon had he caught the violet-eyed boy. Every man of the law in the province had been after that boy for years, but his fifteen minutes of fame would have to wait for another time, he thought to himself as he came out of the path and headed back to his post.  
The two rascals watched the officer stew over his defeat in exiting their playing field. Checkmate. Duo could barely contain his laughter as he watched the officer's face transform into utter annoyance, but Solo hushed his braided friend with a hand over that loud mouth of his, until they could be certain the officer was gone.  
Solo released his hand as Duo released the satisfied chuckles of a job well done before his stomach quickly reminded him how long ago he had actually eaten. Solo pushed open the grating on the cellar of the abandoned house they clambered into to avoid the stares of the law. Solo stepped out first, and Duo followed.  
"We'd better get back, right buddy?" Duo said weakly, holding his stomach as a pain crept through his entire body.  
"Duo, we may have gotten past that goon, but you haven't eaten in days! We're not going anywhere till you do." Solo looked at his companion. To anyone else, Duo would have urged them to keep going, but there was something that made it so that he couldn't argue with the dark-haired boy, or lie to him either. True, Duo never lied, but twisting the truth was almost as bad, and he couldn't do that in front of Solo.  
Duo nodded in consent, almost too weak, now, for words, and stayed with Solo until they were sure the coast was clear on the main streets and they started out for some much-needed food.  
Little did they realize a second presence hidden among the bricks of the alley that had been following them ever since the first avenue Duo had passed on his little escapade of thievery. However, this follower wasn't a messenger of the law, but rather of pride, by personal order of Treize himself.  
"Omae o korosu . . ."  
************ TBC ***************  
I have a background for the story! Yay! It's hardly even started, but I hope you enjoyed! I really love reviews and I take every suggestion and comment into account while writing. It really helps motivate me and I would be very grateful for anything you may have to say. Thanks! -Foxfire 


	2. New Faces

Disclaimer:  
  
Gundam Wing is really great And selling at a high, high rate When people go to the producer's gate In a rather cheerful state Giving them money by the sack They say, "Baka!" and throw it back  
  
Okay that was insane, and untrue, but in any case, I don't own Gundam Wing. Now, on with the story. . . _______________________  
  
Part 2: That night:  
  
"Would you just kick that guy out already? He's giving me the creeps!" The bartender glanced across the room and picked up another glass and began to dry out the inside with the worn cloth. She had seen plenty of peculiar men come in and out of the bar, especially at these late hours at the 'Calme en Nantes', but something about this guy just sent shivers up her spine.  
  
"He's just a kid, Lucrezia. He can't do much harm." The manager grumbled as he walked through the area behind the counter, but just out of curiosity, looked over at the corner table a moment. The messy dark hair shot up and a blue eye glared straight through the manager, who cringed, looking back at Lucrezia. "On second though, just watch him a bit."  
  
Lucrezia sighed heavily, putting the dried glasses back on the counter behind, and continued to observe the new member of their humble establishment that night. He came in a few hours ago, and bought a drink for his seat, but he didn't touch it for a whole hour, at which point a neighboring drunk snatched it off the table. The blue-eyed stranger didn't seem to mind.  
  
She had really gotten off lucky with that one. Normally, of course, they wouldn't have given a drink to someone of his age, but he insisted, and Lucrezia was hardly one to argue with the intimidating young man. So, she gave him something to drink; not that it was alcohol, that is. The manager had told her to just serve him as a normal customer, but it was against her morals. Water is healthier, anyway.  
  
Every couple of minutes, she noticed, he would stop his idle surveillance of the place to focus upon either the window or the wall opposite her where a copy of the news was posted.  
  
"Strange kid. . ." Lucrezia looked over, before she was called over for a second round of rum for the table of regulars.  
  
Heero looked around the room once more, trying to conceal whatever motives he may absent-mindedly reveal in this public place. He wasn't used to public places, and he was forbidden under any circumstances to show any fear, albeit the whole idea absolutely terrified him.  
  
Heero couldn't stop thinking about the lady with the drinks . . . She was suspicious. He might have to kill her. He looked over at Lucrezia, eying her once more, but what was just observation, looked like sheer malice to anyone else. The bartender looked away quickly, but it didn't matter much to him. It wouldn't be long, now, before Heero would move on. Just as soon as he finished this job, he would leave.  
  
Normally, he didn't take on such trivial tasks like the one Trieze had described to him. And, yet, Trieze assured him that this mere peasant's death would alter the course of history, and as twisted as Treize's word is known to be on the underground, any skilled assassin knows that a statement as that is not joked about.  
  
Heero had gone out before without a weapon to see just who he was up against, because as skilled as he was, it was nothing short of idiocy to go into a battle without knowledge of the enemy's strength. It was not one of his better choices, he admitted, now. It hadn't occurred to him that anything could interfere with a mission, least of all emotion.  
  
It was strange. He never could remember feeling sympathy before, and perhaps that is why Heero had stopped at the bar instead of finishing the job, but he would kill tonight. There was no way around it; he had given his word. It was a shame, he thought as he got up from his chair; that one with so much pain in his heart should have to die so soon in life. And yet, part of him wished someone would have the courtesy to return the favor.  
  
Lucrezia looked up from her work to watch the mop-haired young man leave his seat and slide his coat on. She looked at the manager as she poured a drink for a man who had just placed an order, and as soon as she made eye contact, jerked her head over to the leaving customer.  
  
"Ah, would you look at that? Three hours and not more than a shilling spent . . ." The manager mused in amazement at the randomness of it all before raising his voice to Lucrezia's ears, "There goes another 'un. We'll never see him again, you know."  
  
She nodded absent-mindedly, but only half agreeing as she watched the door slam shut behind him. There's something about a guy like that which makes the assumption at a toss of a coin. Everything couldn't be right with that boy, not after sitting for four hours in a bar without speaking, moving, or drinking. And goodness, if looks could kill, that guy might've been an atomic bomb.  
  
He didn't need looks to kill, anyway. A gun was weapon enough.  
  
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Out on the streets, it was a considerably warm night, and Duo had followed Solo to the nearest 'safe space' that he had set around the city. This particular one was 'safe' only because it wasn't in enemy territory (or so to speak). Besides, there were buildings to either side as a windbreaker, and even a small patch of soft dirt. It really wasn't so bad.  
  
"Hey Solo?" Duo glanced from the ground to his friend who was standing watch until he could okay the area for settling down. Solo had actually assumed Duo was asleep, because there had been silence for nearly three minutes. And if something wasn't up with Duo, he could have called it a world record.  
  
"Yeah. . ." The older boy kept his eyes on the streets as another wanderer walked past. It looked like the last one, so he sat down on the dirt, leaning against the wall for support.  
  
"You never really knew my parents, did you?" Duo didn't look to the side, but he knew that Solo was looking at him. How long did he really expect Duo to buy that story anyway?  
  
"No," it was said plainly.  
  
"Then how do you know me?" Duo looked at his friend, who looked back, still remembering the exact moment.  
  
He must have only been four at the time, but it was the first revolt he could remember. Seeing Duo on the steps of the Maxwell Church, Solo realized that he wouldn't last long with the city in such a condition and quickly took Duo with him to escape; promising that he would take the child back to the Maxwell Church as soon as it was safe. And they did bring Duo back to the exact place where Solo had found him, only to find the church in ruin. Solo had been credited with the saving of the child's life, and 'The Sweepers' soon came to call the boy 'Duo' after the one who saved him from the tragedy.  
  
What happened from then on was a struggle for Solo, but with the help of his friends and family, 'The Sweepers', they were able to bring Duo up on the streets as best they could. Still, Duo had turned-out dangerously malnourished, but there was nothing more they could do. Solo hadn't been able to ell Duo about any of this, and thought of a clever lie to cover up curiosity temporarily, but Duo was more perceptive than he looked and acted.  
  
"I've taken care of you ever since you were a baby." Solo said after a slight pause, and Duo threw an annoyed glance at his friend.  
  
"You know what I mean, and it's not that." He brought himself up to a sitting position as well, leaning against the wall. After a long pause, Duo felt a little bad for bringing up such a delicate subject and changed the topic, "That guard's still on the job tomorrow."  
  
Silence prevailed . . . again.  
  
"Solo!" Duo, in growing impatience, yelled as loud as he could whisper.  
  
"What?" he answered casually, but with a slight coarseness to his voice, as if it were difficult for him to speak.  
  
"Don't play me for a fool." Duo crossed his arms indignantly and looked up beyond the tops to the building and to the cloudy night sky. They could barely see anything anyway, so he couldn't even tell that Solo was struggling with himself.  
  
He and Duo had become like brothers in the past 12 years, and he was afraid that saying something might endanger their friendship, or brotherhood, as it were, because maybe his actions were not as Duo had hoped. Solo was sure there must have been something else he could have done to help Duo find his family, and this made him guilty. Somehow, he became so selfish in thinking he needed Duo to be part of his family even more. He hoped Duo would understand, but somehow, Solo knew he wouldn't.  
  
"I'm sorry, Duo. I know you're not a fool, but it's just a hard topic, you know?" Solo glanced nervously at his friend, who he could only barely see through the darkness. Duo hadn't even turned, because he hadn't seen any movement through the blackened hiding spot, but he awaited a response, assuming it was a rhetorical question. He was right.  
  
"When I found you, you were just a baby, and it was the middle of the first uprising of the people against royalty. You don't remember, but you've heard enough to know what went on, right," Solo paused to recall, and let Duo fill in the emptiness.  
  
"Well, everyone says it was the best thing that had happened in a long time for them, but I don't see how killing can ever be good." Duo said in apprehension.  
  
"I found you on the steps of the Maxwell Church, and I knew I had to get the hell outta there if I wanted to live, but I couldn't very well sleep at night knowing I had left a baby on the streets to die." Duo's eyes widened in disbelief as Solo nodded. It was a lot to take in.  
  
"Where's the Maxwell Church? I've never heard of it before." Duo asked tentatively.  
  
"You wouldn't have. It was burnt to the ground by angry revolutionaries hoping to make a statement only hours after I took you away. I found out when I tried to take you back." Solo said wistfully, but only because he was numb with emotion.  
  
"Oh, uh . . . thanks," Duo stuttered, still disbelieving to a certain extent exactly what Solo was telling him, and minutes passed in silence before he had the courage to say anything, "I haven't been a burden?"  
  
"Always," Solo smirked in remembrance, "But it was worth every minute. You're the best little brother, and the best darn thief I ever saw. You can't imagine how shocked I was when I had to bail you out today." Solo chuckled a little, "You aren't angry at me are you?"  
  
"What for?" Duo adjusted his position against the wall, and brought his hands crossed behind his head, still looking at the sky, from which was the only light available, now. The light from an oil lamp in the window across the street had expired more than ten minutes ago, and the sky darkened still.  
  
"Well, just 'cause I thou-"  
  
A shadowy figure could be seen across the street, and Solo instinctively cut himself off as he and Duo scurried farther against the wall, to avoid being seen. There was no point in digging themselves deeper into the alley.  
  
"Oh, no!" Duo looked back, realizing at once their poor choice of sleeping quarters. There was no way out, not even a fence to climb over. There was nothing but wall all around. They hadn't slept there before that Duo could remember, and now, he realized why. Growing up on the streets, you could never be too careful. He had slipped-up, but it was still two against one.  
  
The figure approached quickly, but it was impossible to tell anything from the darkness other than that it was indeed a person, a very swiftly-gaining person who they had already revealed themselves to. This was not good.  
  
Duo felt the figure's presence before seeing it, and his breath rapidly increased. The figure was nearer to Solo, but that made it worse. What if something happened to Solo? Duo would never forgive himself. The figure made a rush for something from his side and pointed it at the wall, where he heard a noise.  
  
The noise was a sharp intake of breath from Solo, who now had a gun placed not more than an inch from his cheek. One jerk of a finger, and Solo would be dead, so he wisely revealed himself to the stranger.  
  
"Who are you?" Solo spoke as the stranger allowed him to stand, and lowered his gun.  
  
"I am sorry. I seem to have made a mistake in this darkness. I was looking for another, but you might be in danger." The elder man's eyes softened, but they couldn't tell anything more than that. At least he had lowered his gun.  
  
"Geez! Get a lamp!" Duo rose to his feet, having a gun only briefly pointed at him. Obviously he was not the target, either. "You scared us half to death!" Duo crossed his arms in discontent, but actually very relieved this situation wasn't as bad as it seemed. They only knew the half of it, and one of them wouldn't live to find out.  
  
"You shouldn't be here tonight. It's not safe," The befriended stranger tucked his gun safely around his waist, completely ignoring Duo's comment, and motioned for them both to follow.  
  
The two looked at each other in confusion, but whatever this stranger had to offer must have been better than anything they already had. It could have been a trap, but the thought quickly went from their minds, replaced by the thought of an adventure, which turned out to go only as far as the 'Calme en Nantes'.  
  
Both their heads turned up to the sign to the small inn and bar. They had passed it many times, of course, but never had gone inside. They had nothing to buy. It was lower than all things to accept the hospitality of another without anything in return.  
  
The lights from the small open building shone through and lit the man's long blond hair splendidly as he opened the door, and looked back at the two younger boys, who hesitated to enter the establishment.  
  
"Don't worry about it, I'll get you something, just don't stand there. I told you it wasn't safe!" The opening lightened, then dimmed the darkened outside streets upon its closing.  
  
"We'd best do as he says." Solo said, still a statue on the ground, to Duo, who was no different, and nodded at the sentiment. Oddly enough, it took near thirty seconds before either of them made a movement to pass through the door.  
  
______________________  
  
Lucrezia was washing the countertop in preparation of closing when the blond-haired man unexpectedly stepped through the door. Her heart skipped a beat as he locked eyes with her across the empty room, and she lost words for a minute until she quickly remembered her manners.  
  
"Please come in," She continued to pick up empty glasses and dampened a new cloth to wipe up the mess, "I was just about to close-up, but if it's just you, you're more than welcome to stay while I get things sorted out."  
  
"There are two more. They should be along in a second," He said, hesitating to take his coat off just yet, "Is that all right?"  
  
"Yes, fine." Lucrezia looked out from underneath long bangs and up from the counter to look once more at the man who so captivated her interest, "Can I get you anything?"  
  
"Do you have anything to eat?" The blond man asked, just having removed his coat, and glancing outside the window to watch the two boys approaching the door.  
  
"Sure."  
  
"Then just cook up two meals of whatever's filling. These kids could use it." He said quietly, and almost sympathetically, as Solo was the first to walk in the door.  
  
Looking at the two in the light, they were an odd sight to behold in their peasants' rags and dirty disposition, but were a motley pair even so. Solo was about 4 years older and stood nearly as many inches above the younger boy with dark, dirty hair and menacing green eyes. Duo, on the other hand, looked quite a bit more fragile than the other; the assumption quite a few had paid for with bruises and various other indentations on their pride. His appearance was not only thin, but quite lovely, had he been a girl. On the other hand, if you told that to his face, you'd probably be unconscious before you could regret it. Duo's eyes were brilliantly purple, too, one of the strange things about his appearance that no one could miss easily, quite like his braid, which hung down beyond his waist. It was usually filled with dirt and needed washing, but despite how hard it was to come across means of cleaning materials, Duo managed somehow to find a way to keep it in good condition. For some reason, it was extremely important, and it was something he had only told Solo once.  
  
It was the eyes, though that first caught both Lucrezia's and the blond- haired man's attention. It was likely that neither of them had ever come across these same hued eyes in their lives. And in Lucrezia's case, this was true, but not so for the blond.  
  
"Have a seat." He offered two chairs at his table, whereupon Duo and Solo sat down, "I hope you can forgive me for that little incident, and keep secrecy. In this case I'd be more than happy to explain, because I've been looking for someone. . ."  
  
"With a gun?" Duo raised his eyebrows at the older man who nodded gravely.  
  
"This is a terribly serious matter, that I hope neither of you have to concern yourselves with, but it will effect everyone in this entire country when you come down to it." He looked over to the counter, where Lucrezia was still cleaning-up dutifully, and he lowered his voice considerably, "I can trust you to keep this secret?"  
  
"You have nothing to fear from us." Solo spoke quietly before Duo had a chance to belt something out, so instead, agreed with his silence. In his case, these were as valuable as any words.  
  
"You two look something awful!" Lucrezia addressed the two young men as she brought matching cold plates of something-or-other in front of the two thieves that neither Duo nor Solo had ever seen in their lives, and stared wide-eyed at the food being offered to them. Their first inclination would have been to say that they couldn't pay, but they quickly realized that both the older people knew this, and looked at the smiling blond-haired man who nodded at them both.  
  
Duo started to pick at his food slowly and guiltily at first, but began ravenously devouring the first chance he comprehended the full extent of his hunger. He finished without any trouble at all, still empty, but the lessened emptiness felt wonderful in his stomach; and to him, it had felt as if he had eaten a feast.  
  
"Thank you." Duo said, watching Solo finish the last of the meal, "You don't know how long it's been since we've had something to eat. Solo, especially. He often gave his share to me, saying I needed it more. I don't believe a word of it, do you?"  
  
"He's just trying to look out for you . . . like a good older brother would." The blond reminisced before looking back at Duo and noticed seriously for the second time those purple eyes. The last time he had seen those eyes was not a pleasant memory, and yet, an essential one if he was ever going to change the course of the nation's history.  
  
It was hard to believe that he was the only one standing up against Treize and his twisted ideals. Perhaps no one knew of his plans, or maybe it was as he feared, that he was the only one willing. These common thieves could prove very useful in his investigations, and a very valuable ally if he played his cards right. After all, he had no chance of defeating Treize alone.  
  
"What's your name?" Duo snapped his head back to the long-haired older man, and green eyes awoke from his thoughts with surprise.  
  
"You can call me . . . Zechs." He turned around to find Lucrezia at the counter, done with her closing chores, and leaning against the counter patiently. "I am sorry if we've kept you waiting." The blond said apologetically.  
  
"It's no problem. Just remember that we close around 1:00 in the morning, so try to be here be here a little earlier than three minutes before closing." She smiled gently, awaiting their departure.  
  
"Actually, this is an inn as well, is it not?" Zechs asked the bartender casually.  
  
"Yes, it is." Lucrezia smiled at the notion.  
  
"Then I'd like a room." He threw a few coins down on the table before walking back to the table to retrieve a coat. Lucrezia stared at the money a minute and counted it out. He had grossly overpaid.  
  
"Sir, I think you may have made a mistake." Lucrezia let the coins fall from her hands as Zechs slipped into his coat, "Where are you off to?" She asked incredulously.  
  
"Why, my inn of course. Make sure these two have breakfast tomorrow morning. That much should cover it." Zechs smiled quickly and raised his eyebrows at the two stunned thieves, "I'll expect to see you tomorrow."  
  
With that said, he waited a moment for a response, but when he received only stunned stares, it made him chuckle a bit as he closed the door behind him.  
  
"Well, it's . . . upstairs and to the left, I guess. . ." Lucrezia said to Solo and Duo as she stared out the door until Zechs was out of view. She then picked up the dirty cloth she had been using on the tables to face them, "You're really lucky to come across a guy like that." Lucrezia sighed as she turned away and ran up the stairs she had motioned to before, leaving the two statue-like figures behind in their confusion.  
  
"Solo?" Duo looked up at his friend with wide, purple eyes.  
  
"Yeah?"  
  
"What's going on?" He asked still quite staggered by the past minutes' events, but Solo had always had all the answers. Weather it was when the rain would fall or how to sew a pocket onto his clothes with a dull needle and an old handkerchief someone threw away.  
  
"You know what, Duo," He looked down at his chestnut-haired friend, "I really don't know."  
  
**************Replies to Revered Reviewers***************  
  
Minerva Blue: in answer to your question I'm really sorry but I, uh, *gulp* don't know what 'AU' means. You've got to understand, though, that I'm fairly new to this. *is glared upon by everyone* Okay, I get the point. Read more, write less. I can tell you about my story, though. It has no romantic relationships as of yet, and might turn out to be a Heero and Duo fic, if you all so desire. It's not important to the plot, though.  
  
Kris Yamaki: Thank you! That really made my day, and prompted on my writing this second part to the story. Minority definitely rules! ^_~  
  
Sidney Maxwell: Your favorite's list? *faints* I feel so special! Thank you! ^-^  
  
***************Desperate plea for Reviews***************  
  
As for you wonderful, new people who might have happened to read this:  
  
Please review! I love to hear what you think, and if you think I should continue! I need motivation because I keep my self esteem inside a gum wrapper with my ego. I'm really pathetic that way. Big thanks to my reviewers for boosting my opinion of my writing. My self esteem may even have to graduate to the tic-tac container soon! (. . . I don't own tic-tacs either, just in case you were wondering . . .want me to write a poem about it? I didn't think so. *is laughing*) 


	3. The Calm

Disclaimer: Don't try and sue me. I have nothing to give you but candy *hands you some candy*. There, and you didn't even have to sue me. I don't own Gundam Wing.  
  
Lawyers: *Start chewing at shoes*  
  
Me: *looking down at rabid lawyers* Ewww . . .salivate of the law! I have the right to freedom of speech under the first amendment, you know!  
  
Lawyers: *Have started on the socks*  
  
Me: Okay, amendment number two: the right to bear arms *pulls out pistol and everyone backs off immediately*. Heh, heh. . .that one always works.  
  
*************************  
  
Part 3: The Calm (before the storm):  
  
Someone might think that sleeping in a bed for the very first time in a person's life would find the best and most comforting sleep he's ever known. Whoever might have thought this was terribly mistaken.  
  
Duo woke up around 3:00, he guessed, by the shade of the sky looking out the window. It felt so strange to him. There were beds, sheets; pillows even, and still Duo had slept better on the cobblestone street with nothing more than a puddle for a headrest. They called this comfort? It felt like prison, because he knew it was too good to be true.  
  
Duo shifted positions to face the flanking bed where Solo was sleeping quite soundly.  
  
It didn't seem to upset Solo, so why should it affect him, anyway? Duo sighed, focusing on the way his feet looked underneath the covers and wiggled them around in curiosity. He had never slept under covers before, and his guess was that Solo hadn't either.  
  
Duo sat up in bed to watch the silence float around the room and began fiddling with the loose ends of his braid. They let both Solo and him take a wash in the bath. He would have probably stayed in there for hours if they hadn't forced him out at 2:00 so Solo could take his turn. Duo could still feel the silky wetness on his fingertips as he ran his hands through his hair, and he began to remember the cold. Not to say, that is, that he had ever forgotten.  
  
Lying down, Duo took to tossing and turning a bit before finding a suitable position, although nothing much could comfort him, now. Shifting his weight to the other side of his body, he gave one last look at the stars through the window with a faint smile plastered to his face as the perfect portrait faded away with the closing of reluctantly heavy eyes.  
  
No, no, no. This wasn't right at all. Duo was soon wide-awake again in annoyance. Long nights had passed before, but none so troublesome as this. What was happening to him, his life, and Solo, too? Duo had learned to live by the theory that trouble won't come to you if you don't go poking your nose in where it shouldn't belong. Not that Duo's nose hadn't poked its way into many a secret, but this time it was serious, and he wasn't sure if he would be ready.  
  
Duo deeply exhaled as he flopped back on the bed rather ungracefully, letting his braid sprawl somewhere across the pillow. It was going to be a long night.. err, morning, rather.  
  
Staring at the ceiling a couple minutes more, Duo noticed some sounds through the silence. Not sounds; voices, speaking with the intent not to be heard. They couldn't have been coming from the window, he realized quickly, because they would have been much more audible that way. These sounds were definitely coming from downstairs in the bar.  
  
The braided boy slipped quietly from his bed to the floor, and stepped cautiously to the door, slowly opening it but a crack to allow his ears at least a clip of the conversation.  
  
" . . . you say I shouldn't have come, I think I have a right to know the truth! I thought you would know!" An unfamiliar young woman's voice rang up the stairwell in obvious displeasure.  
  
"Well, now, we all know the dealings you're in, so I'm a little surprised you have the courage to show your face here." A second female voice echoed up as well, and Duo recognized it at once to be of the patient young woman, Lucrezia, who allowed them in just a few hours ago. Why would she feel inclined to open the shop to someone she disliked so much, and waste time arguing about his departure?  
  
"Fool! You do not understand! There are rumors on the streets of the survival of the dauphin (1). . ." The unfamiliar female voice hissed.  
  
"Now who's the foolish one? Speaking nonsense like that could get you killed. Besides, the king and all of his relations died nearly twelve years ago. You know that." Lucrezia concluded. Duo heard footsteps from below come closer, threatening the walk upstairs, and he pulled the door closed so as not to arouse suspicion. Only seconds afterward did Duo hear the returning of footsteps to their original position as muffled voices continued to speak. He opened the crack once more.  
  
". . .if it were true, do you realize what this would mean?" The young woman's voice hung in the air, thick with unspoken words. Duo shivered.  
  
"Nothing." Lucrezia spat, "It would mean nothing, unless you go looking for him. Why go looking to dig a grave?"  
  
"The gravedigger can plant roses just as easily as he can bury bodies." She was silent a moment, "Good day, Lucrezia, dear." There was a shuffling of clothes, and Duo heard the creak followed by the slam of the front door as he supposed the young woman had left.  
  
Duo was so involved in his thoughts, in fact, that he didn't even notice the footsteps approaching the stair landing.  
  
"Hello?" Lucrezia stared at the blackness behind the crack of the open door, almost fearful that someone had heard. She didn't realize that what she assumed darkness was, in fact, Duo (who was kicking himself mentally for being so careless) staring right at her.  
  
Well, at least he kept composure until Lucrezia turned away, in which case, he was so relieved that he fell back to lean against the door and heaved a reassuring sigh. It was at this point where he made his fatal mistake, and instead of on the doorframe, Duo leaned into the door itself, pushing it wide open, and flopping to the floor onto his back.  
  
"Uh, heh, heh. . . I was sleepwalking?" Duo stared at the upside-down form of the stunned Lucrezia before gathering himself up.  
  
Wait, she thought, it was just the peasant from that night. . . the braided one. He could do no harm. If what her friend had said was true, he might have already heard the rumor. Besides, what would it mean to a mere thief, anyway? Nothing.  
  
Lucrezia cursed herself gently for not seeing it before. The young woman was right.  
  
They had to know the truth. If there really was an heir to the throne, Lucrezia had to find him and show him what his ancestors before him had done to the country so he would be able to right wrongs that had been too late delayed, but it was doubtful if the people would except him. He might meet the same fate as the rest and be an expedient for the second, fiercer revolution that was to come.  
  
The country was dying; Lucrezia could see it, ever since the revolution. Many hadn't noticed, but it was almost worse than it had been before. Something had to be done. The old way wasn't working, but the new way isn't working either. With the rise of a republic, their had been much unrest, and things weren't getting worse for the common man, but they weren't getting any better either. Soon enough, this would cause another uprising.  
  
Many hadn't noticed, but, now, Lucrezia was reminded and could see it coming clearly. If something weren't done soon, the horror would start all over again. It would take longer to recover than it would to get the republic together, but anger has logic of its own.  
  
If there truly was a dauphin, it could be the answer to their prayers, but it could also be the end of all of them. An understanding king could do more than help the people; he would be able to pull the whole country from falling into darkness like all the countries surrounding them. Lucrezia, although not of noble blood, she had started a small group of people who were dedicated to stopping this from happening. So far, it was near impossible, but a king would change everything. If the changes were for the better or for the worse would depend on him, but the issue was obsolete. It was only a rumor . . .  
  
"You know what?" Lucrezia put a disconcerted hand on her forehead as she turned away from Duo, shaking her head up hopelessly, "I have a headache, I'm stressed, I'm over-worked, and I'm human, so I'm just going to pretend I never saw anything, if you pretend you heard the same."  
  
Duo stared a minute before smiling a bit at his lucky break.  
  
"Uh . . . thanks!" he said quickly to Lucrezia's back as she went down the hall before retreating back into the room, closing the door firmly behind her.  
  
The dauphin, huh? Duo thought to himself, looking out to the hallway. He thought he saw something move in the room directly at the end, but it must have been his imagination, or the dark playing tricks on him again. He needed a good night's sleep more than anything, after all.  
  
Duo shut the door behind him as he fumbled across the floor, his eyes adjusting slowly to the darkness, and collected himself back into the bed- sheets thoughtfully.  
  
Whoever Lucrezia and that other girl had been talking about Duo knew sounded important. He yawned exhaustedly. It could have been the person Zechs was looking for the other night. Nah; couldn't be, Duo realized. Lucrezia didn't want to kill him, Duo didn't think.  
  
He pondered this for a moment before almost drifting off into a sound sleep, a true sleep, but he awoke rather uncomfortably, shooting up from the bed as light poured through the now opened doorway and Duo found himself staring up into a young man's face, half-covered in messy dark hair, but with determined cobalt-blue eyes that peered out from underneath . . .  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
  
  
Back in time; 12:57 that morning:  
  
  
  
Heero glared openly at the world as he watched his target enter the very bar he had just recently left. He kicked himself silently for not finding the braided one sooner. This would only prolong his mission, especially with their new protector.  
  
Trieze had warned him of Zechs, but no one could best him. That's why Heero had been perfect for the job. He was the perfect assassin, the perfect soldier with an empty heart.  
  
It was dark. That's all Heero could think about during the whole time he stood outside the bar. He had to stay hidden among the shadows of the night; the moon revealed much too much with its light. The gas lamps inside the building shone out onto the street and lit-up the damp cobblestone that still had puddles scattered upon it from the rain nearly two days ago. It felt much colder than it was.  
  
Heero spun around at a noise, flipping his gun out from under his jacket, only to find nothing more than a crumpled newspaper that had strayed across the way. He was beginning to become a little paranoid with himself, but eyes quickly resumed their glaring form as he put his gun away. It was too soon.  
  
"Hello, Mr. Yuy, is it? You seem to be a little frightened. Why?" Heero jumped to find a young woman with -very- scary eyebrows standing before him.  
  
"Who are you?" Heero stood, unmoved, but not drawing his weapon once more. This would prove to the young woman that he was truly afraid, which he was not. Although she was, indeed, a threat to him, as everyone was in Heero's eyes, it was more important to his pride to prove her wrong than to hide behind a gun in safety.  
  
Truly, he could not, would not be proven a coward.  
  
"Who are you?" Heero asked again as the young woman with long blond hair approached.  
  
"I am no ally of yours." A single eye shone out from beneath the shadow she carried herself in before snorting indignantly and turning away, "But neither am I an enemy."  
  
"Then who are you?" Heero said again, trying very hard to restrain himself from the gun that seemed so close to take up, and yet, he was determined to see this through. Heero promised himself he would not be the first.  
  
"Why, we don't take anything to chance, now, do we?" The face hid itself once again by turning away, "You're very amusing, Mr. Yuy. You make a fine soldier. . ." The young woman turned around sharply, spinning long blond hair reaching near to her knees full around her body ". . .But you're only a mediocre assassin!"  
  
"You are in no position to be judging me."  
  
"Oh, but Mr. Yuy" She chastised teasingly with the flick of her forefinger in his face, "I am not the one in trouble." She backed off a step, and reached down to pull out the folds of a skirt and she lightly curtsied, "My name is Dorothy Catalonia, and I come here on behalf of Mr. Trieze."  
  
"Sent by Trieze . . .?" Heero repeated, stunned. He was completely caught off guard. Not even a hint had been dropped to her coming. Usually, his employers would not dare, or have the heart to interrupt him at work, and yet, this man had a lot of nerve. Heero couldn't stand being toyed with. Usually, it was easier not to know his employers or their purposes, but Treize was making it very difficult for Heero to ignore him.  
  
"Oh, yes." She hissed enthusiastically, "Look what your carelessness had done! Created yet another beautiful battleground! That Zechs really knows how to stir up things. How I will enjoy this . . ." Dorothy clasped her hands contently and looked up into nowhere with a smile. Heero couldn't help but hate the girl as she so-looked-forward to his punishment. Across at the lighted building, he saw the lights turn out downstairs. There was still time.  
  
He ran out across the street and to the building and he began to scale to the upper level.  
  
She brought her frighteningly split eyebrows down along with her hands as she watched the perfect soldier in his last minute attempt to atone for his procrastination, but it was a glare of no compare to that of the perfect soldier. He had no hopes of finishing his assignment. Not with Zechs in the way, at least. Dorothy speculated and crossed her arms as a determined Heero silently opened the window and crawled inside.  
  
"Oh, Mr. Yuy," She flipped back her hair, "You don't know what you've gotten yourself into." She sighed a little before continuing, "I think it would be splendid go pay my friend a visit and buy our little Mr. Yuy some time, don't you think?" Dorothy chuckled a little before she walked over and into the bar across the street . . . the traditional way.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
  
  
The perfect soldier pulled open the shutters and reached to pull up the window. It wasn't even locked. This was easier than he predicted, so far. Dorothy had come to warn him about Zechs, and being as skilled as he was, he was able to recognize this. There was no way around it, though, and the threat would not simply go away. This was something he had to deal with on his own. No one had ever bested him before, but that's not the same thing as being invincible, as many thought he was.  
  
Keeping his gun hand very close to his jacket side, he was prepared for all attacks with an attack stance, but there wouldn't be a need for anything irrational if he could get to the braided thief in time. It was, as Dorothy said, carelessness that brought him to this. The deed should have already been done. He looked at his surroundings in the room he had entered. It was very plain, and felt very empty except for a few paintings on the wall, an ink desk, and a wooden floor. It was almost an office, Heero would have said, if he didn't know better, that is.  
  
/Tak Tak/ The sound of shoes upon the staircase echoed up and down the hall, reaching Heero's ears just in time to duck to the side of the door. There were a few mumblings he could hear down the hall, but nothing significantly important that he heard.  
  
Quickly, Heero peeked around the doorframe and was able to catch a glimpse of the heart-shaped face attached to the chestnut brown braid. His target. Heero's breathing quickened a little, as it tended to do before he was going to kill, because as much as they do not wish to, everyone has a heart. Emotions, he had been taught, are the greatest weakness and should be feared above all else. They are the only things that can hurt you.  
  
Heero waited until he heard the shutting of two doors for both the night- wanderers. Now was the time to strike.  
  
Bursting open the door, the assassin found himself face to face with violet eyes. Those were his instructions, 'kill the one with violet eyes'. He lifted his gun slowly to shoot and looked one last time to the innocent face before him. It would hurt him to do this. We don't know how . . . Nor do we know why history is doomed to repeat itself.  
  
/bang/  
  
**************Footnote***************  
  
(1) Dauphin: Usually referring to the lost young heir of France, Louis XVII (I think). He is now proven to have died in prison, but was the last heir of the monarchy, which was crushed in the French revolution (where I got my inspiration for this story). There was much more to the French Revolution than just guillotines. Check it out; it's really interesting.  
  
********Thank you for Reviewing********  
  
Ranga: Sorry I didn't respond before. I had uploaded right before yours showed-up. Thank you! Book-marked? I feel special! I hope you liked this chapter! ^-^  
  
Shinigami and Tinkerbell: Thanks for reviewing! Yup. I do the puppy-dog eyes, too. It never seems to work *sigh*, but I'm glad I got a chance to see one that did. ^_~  
  
MooMooMilk: Wow! You like my story, and you think I'm a good writer?! EEEE! Thank you! You're a really great writer, so that means a lot! I'm sorry I made Treize the bad guy, but better him than Zechs, right? -_-' I know, that's a bad excuse, but thanks so much for your review! It really made my day!  
  
Emily Hato: *glomp* your reviews were really nice. I'm glad you like this story so much, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter, seeing as how your review helped me start it. Hehehe. . . Eeeep! I'm expecting death threats for this cliffhanger, but things are not always as they seem. ~smiles~  
  
*******************A/N******************  
  
EEP! Cliffhanger! Don't kill me! *runs away from high-velocity vegetables*  
  
It's not what it seems, I promise! I have some chapters planned out already, and I'm hoping to at least get that far. Patience is, you must remember, a virtue. I love writing this and I would love to hear what you think! Don't feel like you have to review, of course, but I would really appreciate it! Reviews really brighten my day! 


	4. Storm Dorothy?

Disclaimer: I do not own Gundam Wing, and so I write this silly thing. I like to write and love to rhyme, but you will learn that all in time. Read this chapter and you'll see, this insane plot belongs to me (to my knowledge). I've thought to nearly chapter 10, but that's not where I hope to end. Please review and I'll reply, and if you don't I just might cry.  
  
For those of you who are confused as I was in writing this, here is some order within madness:  
  
'. . . . ' = thought ". . . ." = speech /. . . . / = noise  
  
Warnings: AU, a little OOC on Zechs' part, I think.  
  
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/bang/  
  
A gun fired a shot into the air, arousing the house upon its firing.  
  
"Hell, Duo!" Solo jumped from his bed, facing the back and braid of his companion in the pitch dark of the room, "What was tha- Who is that?" He took a glance at the mop-haired assassin and moved over beside his friend, ". Duo?"  
  
"What is going on over there!?" An enraged Lucrezia's voice could be heard loudly echoing from all the way down the hall and around the corner. Heero watched the light of her candle on the wall grow brighter at the end of the hall as she approached, "If it's a burglar, I'll kill him, if it's one of you, I'll kill you anyway for waking me up at this hour why I should . . . -good God." Whatever threat she was going to make was interrupted in horror as she recognized the weapon in the stranger's hands.  
  
Heero, instinctively, after the shot, spun around and pointed his gun at the new target with fervency. Lucrezia spun her head around to face the second weapon.  
  
"Zechs . . . ?"  
  
"So, who's Treize's new pawn this time?" The blond-haired man asked coolly upon getting up from his hiding place, gun firm in hand and facing the other with the same vigorous determination. The origin of the first shot was obvious.  
  
"Zechs Marquese." The cobalt blue eyes turned black in the darkness, glinting behind the gun he held so steadily, fearlessly.  
  
"No, no, boy, that would be me," Zechs tightened his grip on the weapon, "I asked for -your- name." Heero just snorted indignantly. They would get nothing out of him.  
  
"Zechs?! Where did you come from?!" Duo stood up from behind Heero, who narrowed his eyes at the braided boy. He was so close. Heero could just turn around to face the braided one and shoot, but his life would be lost in the process. Zechs did have the upper hand. Damn.  
  
"I was in the neighborhood, and I smelled a rat . . . or, Dorothy, rather, but let's not get into that. . . she's a bit. . .tied up, and I have a mission to complete." Zechs said smugly, re-focusing his aim on the other assassin.  
  
Heero widened his eyes a little in surprise.  
  
Zechs wasn't trying to protect the braided one; he was just trying to stop Treize!  
  
Heero smirked. This might be easier than he thought.  
  
"Dorothy?" Lucrezia asked in a late reaction, angered, and turning quite serious on the both of them after a moment of silence, "You get out of here right now, or I'll call the police on both of you!" The courageous young woman clenched her teeth in anger, knowing that the declaration was impossible, looking at Duo and Solo in the doorway, afraid for their safety more than anyone else's. If the other two wanted to kill themselves, it was just fine with her, just so long as no innocents were lost.  
  
Lucrezia had been in the revolution as well, you must remember. She was not afraid.  
  
Heero merely narrowed his eyes at the both the armed Zechs and the brave Lucrezia who stood behind his true enemy. It was all he could think to do. The woman would be no threat, but here he was, facing death at the hands of the enemy, who thought him to be merely a pawn. Was he?  
  
It didn't matter, he decided. This was the mission. (a/n: See the irony, here?)  
  
"So, here for my life, are you? Treize finally put the word in? Well, he's a fool, then. He has far more important things to be looking for." Zechs told the darkness violently towards the chocolate-haired assassin who was still out of view. His first shot had been in vain, but the rest would not be.  
  
Heero knew Treize was no fool and he was never one to doubt orders, but how could this one he was assigned to kill have any importance to Trieze? Certainly, it couldn't be the one that Zechs spoke of. And if that was how it was going to be, he wouldn't let Zechs' misconception be put to waste.  
  
Looking around the hallway, the set-up was fairly simple. The highly- trained assassin's eye soon spotted the most efficient way of passing with intent to evade the two while he found a way out. He wouldn't escape, under any circumstances, but he had to have a plan.  
  
"I don't know what you're pulling at," Zechs hissed angrily as he watched cobalt blue eyes sharply stray around the hall, "But it ends here!"  
  
With that, Zechs pulled the trigger again, and Duo jumped at the sound and Heero quickly jumped aside, kicking off from the right wall with the corresponding appendages with success at getting out of Zech's line of fire, but unintentionally putting Solo straight in it.  
  
"God!" Zechs hissed as he watched the bullet headed straight towards wide green eyes, but before he even had time to regret the shot, Heero had bounced off the wall and kicked his left foot straight into the blond's ribcage.  
  
Zechs fell back in pain. Damn, for such a small guy, he sure was awfully strong . . . Zechs stumbled as he attempted to get up . . . okay, -inhumanly- strong. However, the blond got right back on his feet and wincingly fumbled for his gun while the other held his side, and futilely shot at Heero as the assassin exited the building by way of the window; arms outspread as if the height was of no consequence.  
  
Zechs barely had time to acknowledge the loss before he heard a cry from the green-eyed boy behind him. Duo was already by his friend's side, clenching his teeth sharply. Duo just knew that the young man was after him . . . and he would find out why.  
  
"I'll be back." Duo said hastily before darting down the hall and out the window after the dark-haired assassin before anyone had time to stop him.  
  
"Duo!" Solo yelled painfully, still clutching his arm, and tried to get up.  
  
"Fool!" Zechs tried to stop the braided one by getting up quickly, though still in pain, and rushing over to look out the window, but Duo had already gone. He cursed himself quietly, "Don't worry, Solo," Zechs muttered as he came over and knelt down, examining the wound. He watched the young man who hadn't yet the courage yet to look at it, "It's only your forearm."  
  
"Forget about my damn arm!" Solo stood up, wincing, "We have to go after Duo. He's gonna get himself shot, too."  
  
Zechs clenched his teeth suddenly in thought. 'If Duo finds that guy, he'll be more than just shot'. The blond head, ignoring his young patient, turned sharply in the dark, towards the candlelight, "Lucrezia?"  
  
"Right." She answered, knowing what she was intended to do, still quite shaken. The candlelight trembled slightly before going away entirely, and Zechs took the sound of hurried feet down the stairs as an answer. He looked back at his patient, who still cringed at the thought beneath his eyelids that clamped themselves shut in denial.  
  
"You'd better have a damn good reason for wanting to shoot that guy." Solo gritted his teeth in discomfort, opening his green eyes to narrower ones of the same.  
  
"I'm sorry." Zechs said simply, fumbling for a loose strip of cloth to wrap around the injury, "I will leave in the morning. I have no business bringing danger to you all."  
  
Solo nodded, looking out the window at the end of the hall.  
  
"Duo, buddy, I know you're stubborn, but . . . " Solo muttered painfully towards the open window as a dull breeze swept in, "You'd sure as hell better come back alive." _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Lucrezia stumbled over her skirts that were flying cumbersomely with every step she took. Trying futilely to keep the candle going as she ran, she placed her second hand in front of the flame, and accidentally burnt her hands in the process. . . whereupon she flushed her hand to the side, immediately putting out the flame as she reached the door. Dropping the useless candle to the ground she swore quietly and flung the door open to reveal the street at night. The lamplighter was a lazy young boy who never got around to putting the lights on properly so most of the street was left unlit, but that wasn't where she was headed anyway.  
  
Breathing heavily she rounded the corner, keeping her clumsy skirts up from beneath her. Stupid dresses . . . she didn't have the time, or the patience.  
  
Lucrezia knew that Zechs intended her to go after Dorothy, he had hinted it, but she couldn't understand why. However, she trusted Zechs with her life, it was just something she felt she had to be able to do, and so she kept on running.  
  
Dorothy had come to her that same night, and it was clear Zechs was not on her side. She was grateful for that at least. She didn't trust that woman . . . not one bit. The revolution was probably just a big game to someone like Dorothy. She couldn't possibly understand.  
  
Lucrezia's travels came to an abrupt stop when she found the young misfortune tied up in rope by the side of the street. The dark-haired woman sighed frustratedly at the sight. It was just like men to take action without thinking it through beforehand.  
  
She had to trust Zechs, though. He wanted a peaceful revolution just like her, she knew, even though he didn't act like it. They had to fight to be peaceful. It was the only way.  
  
"Lucrezia!" Dorothy yelled to her from beneath the ropes as the older woman bent down to untie them. "I'm so glad to see you, dear. A horrible old man came and tied me up. I can't think for the life of me why." She said innocently, and might've started to cry to increase the drama, but she knew Lucrezia had known her too long. She would see right through it.  
  
"You liar!" Lucrezia stopped untying the ropes to look down on her captive, "Zechs Marquese tied you up here because you were up to no good. Just what game are you playing at?"  
  
"No game, Miss. Noin." The older woman was taken aback at the sweetness of the girl's words and the formal, pleading address, "I would be happy to explain if you get these ropes off of me." She hissed, "It's very rude, you know. I might just have to tell on you."  
  
Lucrezia narrowed her eyes. The girl was a nuisance. Her relations had more power in Nantes than anyone at this point, and she was always stirring up trouble and threatening to send the word for someone's arrest and/or execution. There was dirt on anyone and everyone she had interest in, weather or not they were guilty of it, and no one dared to risk it, except Zechs, that is, but plenty of people were after him, but he'd seen to every one of them. Lucrezia always came close on Dorothy's list, but the young blond always chose to tease her.  
  
"Come now, Miss. Noin. We can chat over a cup of tea." She smiled sweetly, raising her slit eyebrows ever so slightly. Lucrezia gritted her teeth, but untied the ropes as she was told. If all failed, she could out-run the girl anyway. No big deal. "See, was that so hard?" Dorothy brushed the remaining rope off her as it scattered to the floor and she looked up at the face half-covered with hair with mischief in her eyes.  
  
Zechs won't be happy.  
  
"I don't mean to pester you, Lady Dorothy, but don't you think it's a bit trivial wasting your time on bringing down your enemies. I mean, seeing as you're in search of the Dauphin." Lucrezia attempted, knowing beforehand that she wouldn't get a straight answer.  
  
"We've already found him." Dorothy said acutely, raising her eyebrows superiorly as she turned away, leaving Lucrezia so stunned on the cobblestone street that her knees became weak and the ground seemed to fade beneath her. The survival of the Dauphin could mean the resurrection or the absolute destruction of the nation, and from Dorothy's side, it would certainly lead to devastation of the worst sort.  
  
Lucrezia was so surprised and caught in her own thoughts that she didn't notice Dorothy had left.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
A chestnut braid flicked sharply as its owner rounded a corner, searching in the world of black and white. The streets always looked so different at night, and had Duo not grown up on the streets, he'd be lost before he even was aware of himself.  
  
What was he doing there anyway? He'd have to be some kind of idiot. . .  
  
Duo wasn't looking for revenge. He realized this as he jumped like a feline over an alleyway fence, the faint footsteps in the night growing nearer. Duo needed to find out why he was a target. Why the hell would someone go through the trouble of killing him? He meant nothing to the world. He was just your average, ordinary, apple-a-day thief . . . but you know what they say, curiosity killed the cat.  
  
Duo made another panther-like step onto a barrel-top and flung himself onto a fire escape to survey the area, and then maybe. . . Duo looked across the way into a small intersection of two streets. He quickly jumped down and into the clearing, looking around for the young man with the gun.  
  
There was no where left to go. It was impossible to find that guy now!  
  
It was just then that a cheerily evil voice rung out quietly in the clearing and Duo spun around to its origin, and found what looked like young woman with long blond hair running down by the side of the street in the dark, but as he stepped closer, there was a glinting eye with equally frightening eyebrows that stepped out from hiding and stared straight at him. "I suspect you're not familiar with this part of town?" She asked calmly, "Why don't you come with me, I can show you all sorts of great sights."  
  
"I don't take advice from strangers," Duo said almost mockingly as he approached. He wasn't getting a good feeling from her. . . And he'd always been told to trust his first instincts. Well, his first instincts told him not to trust. "Show yourself! Who are you?" The woman preferred to ignore the braided one's demand, deciding to reveal herself slowly and even refused to answer his question.  
  
"Hm . . . that depends." She said, "Who are you?"  
  
Duo rolled his eyes. That sounded like a line from a movie. He didn't have to think long to come up with an answer, "You can call me the God of death."  
  
The fancily dressed young woman clasped a hand over her mouth in tittering sharply before looking down with evilly slit eyes, "Alright, then, Mr. Death, where are you?"  
  
"Hell." Duo narrowed his eyes. He did -not- like her . . . not a bit. Her voice sent shivers up his spine.  
  
"Hmmm. . ." The young woman crossed her arms, "I was expecting more from you, in all your rudeness, I see there is no hope for the future. It's too bad." She narrowed her eyes and crossed her arms, "I was hoping you'd put up a better battle. It seems Lucrezia was wrong."  
  
Duo blinked. 'Lucrezia . . . ?'  
  
"Whoops!" The young woman clasped a hand over her mouth, still smirking, "Must have slipped." She said, although it was obvious she was lying. "Your friend is long gone, I can tell you. You won't be able to catch up to him, now." The young blond-haired woman pointed a graceful finger in the opposite direction and turned her heel on Duo, "See you again, Mr. Death. I hope we don't have the pleasure of meeting again." She laughed slightly as Duo lost sight of her in the darkness.  
  
'Okay, what the hell was that woman talking about? Well, she could be drunk', Duo thought . . . 'no, she had coordination enough to walk away'. Duo had this feeling that she was being sarcastic. About what, he wasn't sure, because he hadn't the faintest idea what she had said, but she knew where the assassin was, and he had no other choice but to believe her.  
  
It wasn't that far of a stretch that the mop-haired one had already left so he decided to head back. He was an idiot to have come this far anyway. Just his stupid stubbornness . . . and besides, he had a feeling this wouldn't be their last meeting. He needed to know answers, and if it was anything important, he'd find out sooner or later. That's for certain.  
  
And with that thought in mind, Duo headed quickly back the way he had come. Solo needed him right now, and he couldn't . . . -wouldn't- let his pride or his curiosity stand in the way.  
  
He quickly flung open the door to the "Calme en Nantes" and leaped inside and up the stairs to the laying site of his friend. Solo and Zechs looked up at the braided boy, relieved to see his returning. They weren't sure he would make it.  
  
"Duo!" Solo gasped in pain as Zechs laid another bandage onto the place of injury in his arm, but after closing his eyes briefly, he was able to look up again, "It's not Zechs' fault."  
  
"You idiot! Of course it's my fault." Zechs turned back to Duo, "He's delusional with pain. He doesn't know what he's saying." He replied quite calmly as if this type of thing happened on a daily basis.  
  
"Of course it's not your fault!" A chestnut braid flipped sharply around as the heart-shaped face glared stubbornly into the surprised face of the blond.  
  
The opposition was unexpected, of course, and even Solo, in evident pain, raised an eyebrow at his friend's reaction.  
  
"I mean," Duo said wistfully, "He was here for me . . . It was me, Solo! If it weren't for me than none of this would have ever happened."  
  
"Why would he be here for you, Duo? How do you know Treize?" Zechs looked into violet eyes and felt a pang of déjà vu, but quickly dismissed the possibility once more.  
  
"Listen!" Duo said, "I don't know this 'Treize' guy. All I know is that the guy came to -my- room and pointed that, that . . . -thing- at me!" Duo made ridiculous arm motions, unable to bring himself to lower himself to a word like 'gun' at a time like this, "Guys like him don't make mistakes like that. He was definitely here for me."  
  
"It's possible." Solo chipped in, brining himself to an upright position with a little struggling at first. Zechs quickly saw that it was painful, and continued the hasty work on Solo's injury that had been forgotten since Duo's return.  
  
"That guy was trying to kill me. . ." Duo stated, fearfully.  
  
"Duo, that's impossible," Zechs murmured, putting some alcohol on a torn cloth and cleaning out the injury as the patient took a sharp intake of breath at the sting, "That was one of Treize's little assassins. He's really skilled, I mean, he got past me." The blond chuckled, letting out more bandaging from the roll, "What more proof do you want? There's no way they would send out anyone so important to kill you. . ." Zechs hovered a moment, "Unless you really annoyed them."  
  
Duo thought for a minute. 'Well, if 'they' happen to be part of a group of people who organized against Solo and I, the I.R.A.T.E. (institution retailers against thievery + exasperation), then yes, but otherwise. . .' "I don't think so, but I piss an awful lot of people off. It's hard to keep track."  
  
Solo smirked.  
  
"I'm afraid Treize may be up to something big this time." Zechs said solemnly, with as close as he has ever gotten to a sigh, "He wouldn't send anyone after me, I'm sure of that, but it's also highly unlikely that he would come for one of you. It doesn't make any sense, by all accords. I have known him, though. None of his tactics are to be taken lightly. I apologize for putting all of you in danger,"  
  
He finished tying the wrap on the young man's forearm in silence, with nothing but the comfort of the flickering of a candle and some light breathing that surrounded them all. Solo staggered to his feet and smiled slightly to tell Zechs he was forgiven. The blond caught it, but still had not come to forgive himself.  
  
. . . neither had Duo. . .  
  
. . . it was all his fault. . .  
  
"It's nearly morning, you know." Zechs added quietly. All three of them looked blankly at each other, before the silence was broken by a hiss of pain from their injured member and Duo began, looking at Solo.  
  
"I'm not going to get any more sleep." He looked up to the blonde, "I believe you have something to tell us." The braided boy shot a glare that dared the blond to disagree with him before turning back to his injured friend.  
  
"Just wait a second." Solo said, raising a questioning finger into the air. "What the hell is going on, here?"  
  
"That's a -very- good question." Duo added, giving his two cents of a hint at Zechs, who was at the receiving end of a two-way glare and had been slowly slinking away.  
  
"I'll tell you later. . . " Zechs said shyly, and attempted to walk casually out of the room, but was stopped with amazing haste from behind.  
  
"Hold on right there!" Duo said, "You're telling us what's up whether you like it or not."  
  
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Emily Hato: Hey Hey! Talking to you right now! Thanks for your help ^_~ and thanks for your review. I hope this chapter wasn't too confusing! Please tell me if it was, so I'll try to fit less in the next chapter, but I left so many things to unwind that it's going to catch a lot of knots when I try to pull it straight again. ::sighs:: But I'm glad that you didn't threaten my death! I feel special, now, 'cause a few serious injuries are okay now and then, right? I'll try to bring up the next chapter faster! ^^  
  
Kris Yamaki: ODFER? ^_^ Hehe . . . I'd join, too, except, I love to torture Duo, but I can't kill him off, he has a role. I do love suspense, though! I'm sorry this chapter is so late, but I'll try to be better next time! ::starts chanting ODFER:: Hey, you're right. . . that's fun! Thanks for reviewing!  
  
Poe: O.o ::has miraculously survived after been slashed by heavenly finger for not updated soon:: Heya! Your review didn't show until the third chapter was already up, so if you're still with me, thank you for reviewing . . . and for telling me what AU means, because I can be kinda oblivious sometimes. Thank you! ^_^  
  
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A/N: Aah! My hands are sooo cold! I love winter, but typing makes my hands freezing! I wrote some of this in gloves, but I think it's helping my accuracy of finger positions on the keyboard, and maybe will even help my piano in the long run. . . . You know, some say eccentricity is next to genius. ^^;;; I wish. Anyway, I hope you liked this chapter, 'cause I rewrote it a couple times. Umm . . . does anyone know how to spell 'Marquese'?  
  
Please review, I love them! Thank you! ^_^ 


	5. A Threat

Discalimer: I don't own Gundam Wing. Gah! More lawyers! ::shakes them off left leg::  
  
Please R+R!  
  
________________________  
  
Part 5:  
  
"Just wait a minute," Duo exclaimed hurriedly, making it quite clear that Zechs was not getting away, "You're going to tell us what's up whether you like it or not!"  
  
The blond spun around dully, plastering his face with remembrance as he seemed years away. Solo snorted a bit uncomfortably, "You at least owe us an explanation, or something. I mean, if I've got this right," Solo raised both eyebrows and held his hand out, counting absently-mindedly with his fingers as he spoke, "The guy who came here wasn't Treize, but was sent by Treize to kill Duo? But we don't even know who the hell Treize is!"  
  
"I don't know of his background, but somehow he convinced me a long time ago that ," Zechs paused, "We started the revolution, the idiot I was." He spat, "I was a fool not to realize his true intentions. He wanted the king dead so he could rise as king, but Treize knows that before he can rise up on the peoples' shoulders, they're going to need to be desperate. The way things are looking, now, I'd bet anything his plan is coming into action."  
  
Solo widened his eyes at this, although not quite hearing anything past the part where Zechs confessed to starting the revolution. Duo stayed quiet. Having not lived through the revolution, he didn't know what he was talking about exactly, but Zechs' words had impact on Solo, who had a new hatred, "And you created that massacre?"  
  
"No!" The blonde narrowed green eyes, frustrated with himself, "I worked for Treize, and that was a long time ago . . . but some things never change. It's obvious that he hasn't. Treize said it was for the good of the country, that he was doing what the people wanted, but it was all wrong," Zechs' fist grew tighter, "The people are not always right, you know. Changes needed to be made, but we went too far, and now, well, you know what happened. . . "  
  
". . . We're stuck with a government that works like crap, that's what happened!" Solo burst out, turning to his friend, "And that's why there are so many like us, Duo. They may have brought down the evils of the monarchy, but that's not all they brought down. No one pays attention to the ones who stand in the way. They all die, didn't you know? Or didn't you care?" The elder thief hissed sarcastically in the corner.  
  
Duo knew that the revolution was a very sensitive subject for Solo, and he knew it had something to do with why Solo was on the streets as well, but it was better that since neither of them knew his past, that Solo's would remain a secret as well, but he couldn't help but wonder. Zechs seemed sympathetic in the pause, but came to a quick defense.  
  
"You misunderstand! Of course I care, and I'm sorry, but Treize never did . . . he doesn't care even, now, and I'll bet my life that he's going to follow up on his actions sometime soon. I mean, thirteen years is long enough to create a plan to become the next monarch." Zechs said, chuckling falsely upon what should have been a joke, but it was frightening to know that it was true.  
  
"But you killed the king! It's done." Duo protested at once, "The people wanted that, so they would never accept anyone, much less Treize as their ruler! They aren't -that- stupid."  
  
Zechs looked at him curiously, it being the first time Duo spoke up in a while, and Zechs was struck once again by purple eyes.  
  
"You obviously don't know Treize," The blonde stepped backwards from the bed on which Duo sat and leaned against the wall, crossing his arms, "He has the charisma to put the people in the palm of his hand, and after his victory in the revolution, there's nothing he can't get them to do."  
  
"So it's only a matter of time . . . ?" Duo asked, knowing the answer already.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Damn!" The braided boy huffed, crossing his arms in pure anger, trying to think of a solution to the problem with all his might, and there was a moment of silence while this all sunk in. "Uh. . . . what does this have to do with us, again? I mean, how can you even be sure that Treize sent this guy?"  
  
Zechs was silent a minute.  
  
"Well, it seems awfully suspicious to me. I saw Dorothy sneaking around, for one thing and I know she's in league with Treize. But that still doesn't explain why he would want to get rid of you," The blonde pointed to the braided one who wrinkled his eyebrows in thought. . . 'a woman sneaking around. . . I wonder. . .'  
  
"It might've been a mistake." Solo pointed out.  
  
"But that's just the thing. . . Treize doesn't make mistak . . . " Green eyes narrowed.  
  
"What's this about somebody sneaking around?" Duo interrupted, thinking back to his meeting in the alley. Although the blonde had not mentioned her name, she had mentioned Lucrezia. Zechs looked at him blankly, surprised at why Duo would take interest in the subject.  
  
"Yes, what of her?" He asked curiously.  
  
"Does this particular someone talk about you as if it were behind your back, only right in front of your face?" Duo asked.  
  
"Yes, but I would need a little more description if you think you've seen her, and it is crucial you tell me if such a thing occurred, although I have no idea why she would come after you, but it would confirm that -you- are the target." The low voice spoke with all sincerity.  
  
Duo thought for a moment, "Scary eyebrows!"  
  
"That's her all right." Zechs pronounced grimly, "What did she say?"  
  
"Whole bunch of stuff that made no sense to me whatsoever. . . although I do remember her saying 'I didn't meet her expectations'" Duo quoted, bending his fingers and sighed expressively, ". . . like she was stalking me from the day I was born."  
  
Zechs looked into the heart-shaped face and saw a shine of amethyst off Duo's eyes in the candlelight.  
  
/Violet eyes. . . Where have I seen those eyes before? . . . /  
  
"He-ll-oooooo?" Duo asked, waving a hand in front of the frozen face that quickly snapped back into the real world. Zechs quickly replied to say that he was fine, and continued to look at Duo perplexedly, while younger eyes across the room threatened closing.  
  
None of them had gotten any rest all night, and it was no wonder none of them were thinking straight. Looking out the window, the sun was already rising and Zechs wondered what kind of trouble Dorothy was giving Lucrezia, but he knew that the woman was more than capable. He wouldn't have given her such an important assignment if she wasn't.  
  
"Why don't you two get some rest?" Zechs said, defeated, and uncrossed his arms with a gesture towards the new light that streamed through the window. Duo relaxed his position as he looked at Solo underneath the covers, who had already drifted off into a silent sleep, and watched as Zechs headed to the door, "Go ahead, Duo," The blond turned around sharply, "You're going to need your rest, too, if you're going to help me catch that assassin."  
  
Duo nodded quickly at the older man and got up slowly from the bed, being sure not to stir his sleeping friend, who breathed heavily as he shifted sides in slumber. Duo made his way to the other bed with guilt.  
  
It was his fault. Solo would have never gotten hurt if he hadn't been there, and Solo could be dead right now if he had only been a few inches to the side. Duo shook his head with fright. He wouldn't let it happen. He didn't know how he could go on living if someone was killed because of him. Solo getting hurt was enough on his head, and if he stayed here, Zechs would surely have him to lure the assassin, and Solo would surely follow. Duo couldn't bear to put his friends in danger any longer.  
  
As long as he was around, people would always get hurt.  
  
That's why Duo had to leave.  
  
It was the right thing . . . wasn't it?  
  
Duo looked at the sleeping Solo who writhed a little in pain of which Duo blamed himself fully. He couldn't put Solo in danger. . . .he couldn't put Zechs or Lucrezia in danger either, even if they were looking for it. It just wasn't right. Sleeping would have to wait.  
  
"I'm sorry, Solo, but it's just something I have to do." Duo said quickly, and after looking for a pen and paper, realized neither Solo nor he could read, and so he reached around underneath the collar of his shirt for the only thing that he could think of as a temporary goodbye. Duo sure has hell wouldn't die without his cross.  
  
Fingering the small gold cross that he treasured more than anything else, he knew that it was the only thing that connected him to his parentage, but when he left Solo behind, he also left his family. But family members did not put each other in danger if they could help it, either.  
  
"I'm going to find that girl, and I'm sure she knows where Treize is. Then I'll set everything straight so neither of us will have to suffer, and things will be just like they were . . . you'll see," Duo mumbled to himself, or rather the sleeping Solo, as he placed the cross on the side table where Solo would be sure to see it. "It has to be me . . . only me."  
  
With that, the braided one took one last look at the sleeping boy before looking distastefully at the hall door, and turning more hopefully towards the window. No one would know if he left from the roof, and so he did.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
Lucrezia walked hurriedly on the street, picking up the edge of the dress that was dragging cumbersomely in the gutter. This was perhaps the worst news she had heard in a long time.  
  
How could the Dauphin have survived? Surely Dorothy must be lying, but there was no sense in taking chances. She had to alert everyone of this rumor at once! She hadn't thought to look for him, herself, because the post said that there were no survivors of royal blood. Everyone knows that this is not the most reliable source of information, but even so, it didn't seem possible.  
  
Lucrezia knew that Zechs had said that young assassin had been sent by Treize. She had heard of the man before, but never knew him well aside from knowing that he was a vile, power-hungry man who started the revolution on the wishes of the people, but meant them as wishes for himself.  
  
In this unstable time, it was obvious Treize wanted to take the throne, but why would he need the Dauphin to do so? It didn't make sense. Wait, no, it's not that Treize needed the Dauphin, it's that he wanted to get rid of the threat the heir presents. Surely, if the revolution took place thirteen years ago, the Dauphin could not be more than a young man, and would probably not know anything of his past, or else he would have risen to power already. Whether this was a curse or a blessing, Lucrezia hadn't the nerve to guess, but either way, Treize could easily crush the heir, who could be their last hope for a stable nation.  
  
/Wait a second . . . that assassin was sent by Treize and Treize wants to get rid of the threat of the Dauphin . . . Could Zechs be?. . . no, the assassin would have gone to Zechs' room, because they aren't that careless. . . but those boys . . . /  
  
Upon reaching the correct street, she ran to the door of the "Calme en Nantes" with the same despair that Duo had shown upon entering not more than an hour ago and ran recklessly up the stairs.  
  
Zechs, almost immediately after not being able to get to sleep, heard the loud clomping of shoes up the stairs, and ran to meet them just as Lucrezia had entered the room in which Solo had been sleeping quite soundly. He turned quickly to find Zechs running in as well.  
  
"Lucrezia? Did you take care of Dorothy?" Zechs asked quickly, and Lucrezia turned around sharply to face him.  
  
"They've found the Dauphin." She said quickly as the man's narrow green eyes widened in absolute shock. He was frozen a minute.  
  
"I see." He said, "Then I must act quickly."  
  
"Zechs, there is no 'I' here! There's no way you can do this alone. Besides, this 'Treize' must have the order out for the Dauphin's assassination already." Lucrezia said hurriedly, "Which is why I don't think these two," She motioned behind her, "Are without suspicion to that title. . ."  
  
It was at that exact moment that Solo awoke, to the sounds of a worried Lucrezia from his doorway. Quickly looking at the bed aside him, he saw the covers thrown astray.  
  
"Where's Duo?!" Solo shouted at the two arguing figures in the hall, who were ogling him disbelievingly. Running inside, the two elder figures looked to the empty bed.  
  
Zechs then let out a string of curses that are not fit to be repeated underneath his breath as he turned to Lucrezia.  
  
"The assassin was after Duo," The blonde clenched his fists in realization, "The purple eyes. . . I should have known! Those are the eyes of the Dauphin! It was under my nose all this time! Damn!" He turned to Lucrezia in a fit of rage, "Damn it all! We have to find Duo before its too late!"  
  
"Hold on a second, you're jumping to conclusions!" Lucrezia warned, "We still don't . . ."  
  
"His cross. . ." Solo said wistfully, picking up the gold chain that lay on the desk. He still refused to believe anything he'd just heard. Duo would never be the Dauphin, Duo was only and always his friend.  
  
Zechs and Lucrezia stared at Solo's calmness in the situation as he picked up the cross and held it up to them. He cringed at the raising of his injured arm, but they both had to see and understand, "Duo left his cross. He's coming back."  
  
"How can you be so sure?" Zechs asked as Lucrezia elbowed him, and cut off Solo from answering.  
  
"You're one to talk," She spoke to Zechs who glared solemnly at her, ". . . You're the one assuming beyond all doubt that Duo is heir to the throne. Don't make me laugh. He's just a common thief."  
  
"I was there, don't you get it?" He said gravely, "I was supposed to kill him in the first place . . . it was thirteen years ago, all I remember were those enchanting purple eyes before I left," He paused for sincerity as he captivated Lucrezia and Solo's attention further, "it was supposed to be the finale to the revolution. That was the one flaw in Treize's plans to rise to power. Now, I assume, he will try again by eliminating the one obstacle that stood in his way before."  
  
"I'm sorry. . ." Lucrezia said dejectedly, "I didn't know. . ."  
  
Solo was angered by this, "Look, I don't know what you guys are getting at, but there is no way that Duo is a royal, okay?! I raised him myself!"  
  
Zechs looked at the fiery young man with sincerity, "Where did you meet him first?"  
  
"Well. . . I. . . uh. . ." Solo paused, a little blinded by his own denial, "The steps of the Maxwell Church before it was destroyed." He clenched Duo's gold cross even tighter in his right fist, wanting to jump out of bed and run to find Duo and show them he wasn't who they said he was, but Solo knew he was still too weak. It hurt even to move the slightest.  
  
"Is it not possible that someone took pity upon the child in his dead mother's arms and brought him to the church door in hopes that someone might save him?" Zechs asked calmly, laying his proof as gently as he could on the young Dauphin's only family and best friend.  
  
"But, it can't be! I won't believe it!" Solo retorted sharply, the tears of frustration that slid down his cheek eluding him entirely.  
  
"Then you would just let Duo leave? Treize might have that young assassin on his tail even as we speak." Lucrezia said, rushing to Solo's side to calm the young man. Zechs had adjourned to the other side of the room, dismissing this display as 'weak'. "We may be wrong about Duo being the Dauphin, but Treize thinks that Duo is, too, so either way, he is in danger. Are you willing to help us?"  
  
Solo glared at the woman with dark bangs covering half her face and nodded determinedly while he tried to remove the covers to his bed.  
  
"Oh, no, you don't!" Lucrezia said quickly, "You're much too weak to be going anywhere!"  
  
"But Duo probably left because he didn't want to get me in danger, I know he did, the selfless fool!" Solo yelled, almost at himself, and the two looked almost sympathetic for the poor boy before Zechs chimed in.  
  
"She's right." He turned to the door, "I'll find the Dauphin."  
  
"You mean, 'you'll find Duo'!!" Solo exclaimed sharply to the blonde, "And he -is- coming back," Solo said definitely as he placed Duo's gold cross around his neck. "He wouldn't leave this if he was going to die."  
  
"As that may be, I won't let Treize have his way." Zechs said, and with that, he ran out of the room, clutching his side to make sure his gun was still in its proper place. Lucrezia sighed as she watched the revolutionary leave.  
  
"You're leaving, too." Solo said, and Lucrezia turned sharply.  
  
"I don't have a weapon, and besides, you might need someone to look after you, here." The woman put her hands on her hips as she looked out the window at the sun which was already rising. To think all of this had happened in one crazy night . . .  
  
With that, the young man smirked, rummaging inside his clothes for an old something. Upon feeling the metal against his skin, he drew out the knife and spit a little on it before polishing it over with edge of his pants. He admired it a bit, out of the vision of Lucrezia, and ran his fingers over the name he had etched in the side. His name was really the only thing he'd ever learned to write, and he was the only on in the whole Sweeper's group who could aside from Duo, who had learned it from him. It looked quite unprofessional, but who cared.  
  
Tossing it over to Lucrezia, he still had that stupid grin on his face, "There's your weapon." She looked at the small dagger quickly before turning worriedly over to it's owner, "Don't worry about me, just find Duo, kay?"  
  
Lucrezia nodded solemnly, knowing that Solo, despite all his protest, was more worried about his friend then any of them. She left, too, quickly so Solo wouldn't have to worry, but he did.  
  
He held the cross around his neck close to his heart. Duo was the only real family he'd ever had . . . that bastard, Treize, would have to kill Duo over his dead body; that was one thing he was certain of.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
"So you've failed? I'm disappointed." A low voice seeped from the empty square. The surroundings grew lighter with every minute of morning and the weeds in the cracks of the cobblestone glistened with the morning dew.  
  
"Hn" The assassin looked around for the origin of the voice, and it was almost too quickly found. His well trained ear and eye spotted the figure before it stepped into the light of the platform in front of a sweets shop.  
  
"I'll give you a second chance, Heero." The figure chuckled slightly and there was a pause. Heero stepped forward to meet his employer as a breeze swept through the square before Treize spoke again, ". . . because it turns out I didn't need your help after all."  
  
At that, the cloaked man revealed what he had been hiding in the shadows of morning and flung it in front of the assassin.  
  
The chestnut braid, a little disheveled from the short journey, stood out from the rest of the boy and the heart-shaped face looked lifeless upon the ground. Heero looked-on, widening his eyes only slightly at what he saw.  
  
"He's only unconscious, you know." Treize said, "I'm quite happy, actually, that you decided to back out because I have other plans, now. . ." Heero narrowed his eyes dangerously at his employer. He never 'backed-out'. Treize saw this and smirked slightly, "I found him running around aimlessly on the streets. What a fool. But we had quite a nice chat, you know?"  
  
"I see. . ." Heero said in solemn sarcasm as he looked at the unconscious body before him. Treize smirked evilly.  
  
"We made a little deal." The cloaked man waved his hand nonchalantly at the slim body in ragged black attire. "I promised not to send you to kill that friend of his so long as he helps us achieve our goal."  
  
"A threat, then," Heero stated.  
  
"Precisely," Treize said turning away a second, before coming back to add, ". . . of course, I knocked him out so that he couldn't try anything tricky while we came here. So, now, I'll leave him to your care."  
  
Heero narrowed his eyes at the cloaked man. He had never been given such a mission before.  
  
"What do you propose I do?" He asked coldly, looking at the seemingly lifeless young man beneath him, lying almost as if a shadow, and as thin.  
  
"Well, the idea is you kill him. I don't care how, but I want to get some good use out of him first. Train him. . ." Treize paused, ". . . but not so he's more trouble than he's worth, mind you. Of course, I don't see how he'd ever be able to get out of your sight with your far superior skills. In any case, he should prove useful, at the very least. I'll send him a mission shortly, meanwhile, well, you know yours." Treize smirked once more before turning his heel on the stoic assassin.  
  
"Hn. . ." Heero, looking down at the young man whose fate had been sealed. He thought it was a shame such a beautiful young man would have to die, but why couldn't he kill him before? Heero narrowed his eyes further. He wasn't used to playing games, especially with peoples' lives, but it was the mission. The perfect assassin cannot afford any emotions, especially not pity.  
  
With that, Heero glared at the unconscious body, or perhaps all the world that had brought him to this, as he stood at the edge of the cobblestone square. It was then that the thin figure, chestnut braid and all began to stir into consciousness.  
  
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A/N: Okay that was an awful lot of information in this chapter . . . hope you got all that! Oh, I'm sure you did. ^_~ This is the real plot, btw!  
  
Kris Yamaki: You might have a reason to revolt, now. Heero has a mission to kill Duo. This is not a good thing. Hehe . . . but we don't want to start another revolution either, well, not yet anyways! ^_^ I hope you liked this chapter!  
  
Ajray: I'm so glad you like it, and that you noticed that the story was a little bit forced upon the Gundam characters, but I have experience with them, and I felt it might be a little too much for me to handle new character development and the somewhat confusing plot I've created. . . . Okay, so it's a -very- confusing plot, but I hope that you're still with me, and if you're reading this you obviously are, so I hope you liked this chapter!  
  
Emily Hato: Hey! ::hugs:: How are you? See, I told you I'd get it up this week-end! ^_^ Thanks for all the continuous support on this story! I laughed so hard when you talked about Dorothy's eyebrows getting shaved. I definitely agree! ::nods enthusiastically:: As you can see, I have finally found a use for Solo in my plot! Yay! I'm so happy. I think he's such a wonderful character, too. Thanks so much for the 'Merquise' tip! I hope you enjoyed this chapter!  
  
Colorain: You're never coming back to this fic, I know, but thank you for reviewing anyway, and I'm glad you don't think any less of me because I write such horrid stuff.  
  
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Thank you so much for reading! Please review, if you have the time! I love them! 


	6. Plan of Escape shorter, sorry

~~~ This story is hereby dedicated to Emily Hato for her continuous support, without whose encouragement I would probably not have continued past the third chapter, and because she's just awesome. ~~~  
  
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The Transitive Property of Disclaiming:  
  
Me=Poor  
  
Poor=Does not own Gundam Wing  
  
Me=Does not own Gundam Wing  
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Continue:  
  
Duo didn't toss very long on the ground, but rather opened his eyes to look at the stony street beneath him. The sun had already risen, and the light cast gold upon the plainness of the ground. Slowly, the captive turned to one side and the blur of the assassins' shoes. He watched as the golden brown sneakers became more distinguishable from the same colored stones beneath them. He heard a slight rustling and a few clicks of something mechanical above him, as there seemed to be some hasty shuffling. It took Duo nearly ten seconds to remember exactly -why- he was there, on the ground, in a place he couldn't recognize, looking at what was perhaps the most unattractive pair of sneakers he'd ever seen.  
  
"Dammnit!" Duo growled as he propped himself up with a bruised hand from behind. Clenching his teeth, his head turned sharply upwards, "Y-you!" Duo shuffled himself quickly back with his feet in shock, presently hitting a wall, but he didn't bother to look behind him for a second way out. Instead, he glared ahead.  
  
He looked at Heero's figure, noticing first and foremost the gun tucked in the waist of tight shorts and fear crept over him. He realized, then, that he was completely helpless. He had just made a deal with the devil, or so it seemed. Treize was close enough in his book. To threaten Solo like that, there was no choice for him. Duo sighed, standing up slowly, refusing to raise his eyes from the road.  
  
Heero continued glaring dangerously at the beaten figure rising up against the wall before him.  
  
"So, you're not going to kill me?" Duo asked, chuckling slightly with sadness, "I'd thought for sure Treize would have done it by now. Well, you might as well get it over with. It's not like I have anything to live for." He cringed, eyes closed, awaiting the worst. After a few awkward seconds, he looked back ahead, where the assassin hadn't even drawn his gun, "What are you waiting for!" Duo yelled, flinging his hands out in aggravation, "Get it over with already! I already decided Solo's life is more important then mine!"  
  
Heero was taken a little aback, although he showed no sign of it. That was the name of the older boy who was injured in their last meeting. Heero couldn't understand why someone would someone give their own life for another. It didn't make sense to him. He could think of no one he would be willing to sacrifice himself for. He hadn't thought about the threat Treize imposed upon the braided one. All that mattered was that this person was in his control. Heero still couldn't understand this idea of sacrifice. It was irrational, it was . . . he looked at the small figure in front of him and watched as a tear of frustration and sorrow made a small damp spot on a stone below the braided one.  
  
"Treize does not wish your death." Heero finally answered, not knowing what else to say. It would make his mission much more difficult if he told the captive his true intentions.  
  
"The hell he doesn't." Duo retorted, developing an even stronger distrust towards the assassin. He spun around hatefully, "Well, suppose he doesn't want to kill me. Why are you here? Babysitting?"  
  
Heero glared dangerously. He was really starting to detest this young man, because he was right. That was exactly what he was doing. However, agitated as Heero had become, he chose to ignore that last comment.  
  
"You told Trieze that you would work for him, correct?" Heero asked stoically, with a tangy taste of annoyance underneath. Duo turned angrily, "I was -forced-."  
  
"It is my mission to train you." The assassin stared at the returning face of the thief.  
  
"And if I refuse?" Duo asked quietly.  
  
". . . Solo dies. Those are my orders." Heero said emotionlessly. Duo's expression turned blank for a minute. He couldn't let Solo die; he would never forgive himself, but what did Heero mean by 'train'? Train to -kill-? Duo's head spun. He couldn't kill anyone to save Solo. This was so twisted. That's the reason he left in the first place. What could he do?  
  
Duo thought a moment. This young assassin he was with was certainly very experienced in his art, with sharp senses and a mind to match. It was clear of that, Duo knew by just looking at him, but he quickly realized his advantage. The perfect assassin had never been up against the perfect thief. Duo knew everything there was about hiding, stealing, stealth, and ultimately remaining unseen. Shaking off one assassin with experience shouldn't be difficult, Duo thought.  
  
As soon as the assassin isn't looking, his gun is as good as stolen. Duo was sure that wouldn't be a problem. He didn't know how to handle the thing, and didn't expect to use it, but rendering the young man weaponless would at least buy him some time to go back and defend Solo. That was the plan. It gave him the only the slightest expectation.  
  
Heero merely watched as the melancholy visage turned slightly pensive, and then empty again, with only the slightest tinge of hope.  
  
"I should be dead, you know." Duo stated.  
  
"Hn. Then you consent." Heero returned, rummaging inside the small sack he carried for a piece of bread that he hungrily bit into. Looking at the  
  
Duo's face regained some of it's color upon looking at the small bit of food he was offered, but he refused it at once, " . . . let's get one thing clear, first. I don't make deals with death. I am death. The God of death."  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
Zechs stepped into square, now brimming with morning light. The shadows were cast along the protruding streets and the weary ex-soldier peered around, looking for a sign of anything that might lead him to the Dauphin. True, Solo cared a great deal for the young thief, but that was not Zech's motivation. All that mattered was that Treize didn't find him and kill the Dauphin, and Zechs refused to fool himself into believing Duo was who mattered to him. However selfish that sounds, but Zechs knew that already.  
  
The blonde sighed as well as he could and ran a hand through his disheveled hair. He'd been running for so long, but he was almost certain Treize would come here . . . the old revolutionary meeting place. . . where so many had died. It was this square. If he intended to draw blood, there would be stains here.  
  
"Good", Zechs said quietly to himself, relieved, as nothing shone with anything more in the square then morning light, "They haven't found him yet. There's still time."  
  
With that, he headed off down one of the adjoining streets. The Dauphin had gone looking for trouble, and without a doubt, trouble would find him rather sooner than later. That young assassin was still more powerful then him. Zechs knew it, too, but he wasn't going to give up so easily.  
  
Still running, he accidentally hit a metal trash container to the right and it rang out over the street. Zechs only stopped when he heard the sounds of an angry child from behind. Turning, the blond watched the young girl started yelling at him how she was trying to sleep and he should pay more respect, and attention to where he was running. In fact, she was yelling obscenities that she really shouldn't know until she was at least 13.  
  
Calming the young girl down with a solemn apology, Zechs knelt down to the little thief, who seemed a little stunned at the respect he was showing her. No one ever actually listened. Perhaps that was why she was so bitter.  
"What's your name?" He asked quietly.  
  
"Mari. What's it to you?" The read-head struggled with her instinct to run.  
  
"Do you know of a young man not unlike yourself by the name Duo?" He asked carefully to the auburn-haired youth. Her eyes lit with joy that she had a connection to this man, but backed away instantly for fear. It was not like Duo to keep friends in such high places without ever mentioning it . . . especially friends with guns . . . Mari eyed the weapon with skepticism.  
  
"Yea. How do you know 'im?" She asked, slowly putting her left foot in a comfortable turning position in case she needed to leave quickly. The man was big, and she knew she wouldn't be easy to catch, so she could stand safely without too much fear aside from the gun that was a little too close for comfort.  
  
"It's important that you listen to me, Mari," Zechs said solemnly, as he saw the girl was ready to run, "Duo is in trouble. Some bad people want to kill him. It's important for me to know if you've seen him at all this past night?"  
  
Mari's hair shone red as she stepped from him and into the sunlight, "I don't believe you." She said plainly.  
  
"You have to believe me!" Zechs snapped, "There is no other way! It's too long to explain, but Duo is in trouble, and you simply must tell me where you last saw him, or else he could die! Mari, do you understand?!" He said with conviction, but without raising his voice or showing sign of hostility. The young girl looked frightened, but managed to shake her head at the older man all the same.  
  
". . . He never goes anywhere without Solo." She smiled confidently as she turned to leave, "They'll be fine as long as they're together. You can bet your life on it, mister."  
  
"They're not together. Solo's injured, and staying at the 'Calme en Nantes'!" Zechs called after her loudly, and Mari spun around disbelievingly.  
  
"That place on 2ed Avenue? You aren't serious." She told Zechs, staring at him almost fearfully. She had known the pair for years, and this didn't sound like them at all to be involved in such dangerous matters. Neither of them did any more than petty stealing, and Mari simply couldn't understand why someone would be after them.  
  
"That's why you have to tell me if you've seen Duo this past night! I can guarantee another run-in with Treize will end Duo in a much worse condition than Solo's.  
  
"Treize?" Mari asked dazedly, "Solo's condition? What happened?" She was beginning to believe him, and she figured all she could do was believe him . . . innocent until proven guilty. She'd have to pay a visit to this inn of theirs. If he was telling the truth, she could stay with Solo. If he wasn't, then Solo and Duo would be together and everything would be okay, unless . . .  
  
"You don't need to know. Where's Duo?" Zechs asked quickly,  
  
"How do I know you're not this 'Trieze' guy?" Mari asked intelligently, and Zechs was a bit surprised, and then angered. He hadn't thought of that possibility.  
  
"I don't know! You've just got to believe me!" He hissed impatiently. He didn't have time for these games. They were going to find the Dauphin, and they were going to kill him. There was nothing he could do about it at this point. . . and all because of this stupid little girl. He clenched his fists. "Come with me!" He ordered. Mari was taken aback as he grabbed her hand and began leading her hurriedly eastward, where the sun was rising.  
  
She looked up at her captor, a little frightened, but continued to run, almost dragging behind him. What if he was actually telling the truth . . . should she risk Duo's life and tell them what she saw? . . . but wasn't she doing that either way?  
  
Mari supposed by the manner in which she was being led that she would find out what was the right thing to do soon enough, for sure.  
  
_ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _ _  
  
On some other road off the square . . .  
  
"Still won't speak, eh? Well, okay, here we go on the next round . . . Nine hundred fourty two bottles of beer on the waaall, Nine hundred fourty two bottles of beeeeeeeeer! Take one down, pass it around, Nine hundred eig- gah!" Duo stopped abruptly as he was choked by his own shirt-collar that was taken hold of. Lifted quite threateningly, Duo looked sheepishly into fierce blue eyes that showed the last straw had broken. "Hey, man. I'll stop. You just had to ask . . ." Heero let the captive down reluctantly.  
  
Dusting off his shirtfront, the young thief sighed. "Not one word." He paused for drama, and it's not like he was getting a response, "You've been leading me around this infernal city for what seems like hours and not one word since we left. Where the hell are we going, anyway?"  
  
Heero continued ahead, grunting his disapproval. He was thinking the exact opposite. How could one person possibly be as irritating as this one? He had many missions before, and some were difficult. He had to sneak into plenty of diplomatic gatherings for his kill, he had to go undercover in the country and work on a farm in sweltering heat to get the information he needed. But none of these tasks could ever match the difficulty he rated this mission. Nothing. He tried to block out the incessant chatter and tedious noise, but this was simply unbearable. Heero had difficulty not pulling his gun out and finishing his job just like he was supposed to have done in the first place at times, but Heero managed to contain his temper for the time being. Underneath it all, he thought it was a little comforting to have a companion, however much of an inconvenience . . . but he would never admit to it, of course.  
  
" . . . Well, if you're not going to tell me where we're going, and you're not going to tell me why, then you might at least tell me your name."  
  
"I don't see the point in that." He announced emotionlessly.  
  
"It speaks!"  
  
Heero glared dangerously at his companion.  
  
"Well, fine. Not like I care, or anything." Duo crossed his arms, and they both continued walking in silence.  
  
Duo glanced over at the assassin. The gun was within arm's reach, he needed only to create a distraction of some sort . . . anything. The thief looked around the street, and looked at his assets. Wooden hanging sign, but that wouldn't be very useful, well, unless he knocked it over the other guys head and it cased brain damage and . . . not a good idea, he decided. He saw an climbable side of a building. Easy escape idea, but it wasn't going to do him much good . . . since they just passed it!  
  
Heero, still walking alongside Duo, looked over at his companion, who had a very pensive gaze on. He knew the young braided one was planning an escape. It was not only on every one of his features, but also had been accounted for in Heero's plan. They weren't headed anywhere, actually. He knew that his 'student' would get away as soon as possible, as Heero knew that he would do in this exact situation . . . and he had done, successfully. However, none of Heero's previous captors had been prepared.  
  
The gun that Duo had been glancing at from time to time had been unloaded very quickly before the braided one had awakened. The threat of him holding one was enough to keep the young thief in line, but if not, he could always best him in strength. Heero also expected the re-possession of his weapon, being skilled as the young thief was sure to be to have eluded him thus far. Heero planned to roam around the city with no particular destination until the escape had already been attempted and stopped. The assassin looked back at his companion who was now smiling insanely. He thought he accounted for everything at least . . .  
******************* Responses******************  
  
Kris Yamaki: I'm just a little offended by your review. I'm sorry that you don't like shounen ai. I originally didn't start this out to be that way, but it is slightly but it could work both ways. You could see it as friendship. I'm not going to go into it that much and it won't really effect the plot very much. I understand why you might not want to read this story anymore after hearing this, but I really don't understand why this idea would be so great for Heero and Relena and not as I have it. I agree, Heero is being evil, but this story is more about him than you may think right now and I can't very well kill him off before he plays his role. As always, thanks for the review.  
  
Emily Hato: Look, it's only March. Not bad, if I do say so . . . ::smiles:: I shall try to follow your example and update more often, and I think you'll like the next chapter. I have a very evil cliffhanger in store. Now, I must turn around and tell you to update, and thank you for the motivation! Thank you! ^ ^ 


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